


I’d catch a grenade for you

by Cloudyjongho



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: 1950s, Alternate Universe - War, Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Bottom Choi Jongho, But they get better, Choi Jongho as North Korean, Comfort, Don’t be scared, Fluff, Happy Ending, I didn’t portray killing strongly either, I didn’t write gore, Kissing, Korea’s war, M/M, Panic Attacks, Park Seonghwa as a South Korean, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smut, Top Park Seonghwa, War, World War II, traumas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:01:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28170579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudyjongho/pseuds/Cloudyjongho
Summary: Jongho and Seonghwa first met in the second world war. It wasn't supposed to happen, they were enemies, but it did. That led to them sneaking around, but as the war worsened, they were forced to separate.Three months after the war ended, Jongho was on his way to South Korea to find the man he fell in love with. To find the only person that could make him feel loved.OrJongho's and Seonghwa's love story told from the moment they met all the way until the end.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 54
Kudos: 74





	1. If my body was on fire, they’d watch me burn down in flames

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT!
> 
> If you are curious about the pictures in their lockets, you can find them [here](https://twitter.com/ramenofwonho/status/1337156895484895238?s=21) . I know. Graphic design is my passion💀💀 I tried okay
> 
> I do NOT glorify war. It’s a sad thing no one should need to go through. I purely wrote this because I wanted to do a love story with hurt and angst. I also do not mock any countries.
> 
> I don’t remember much from my WW2 history lessons, but all facts about the actual war should be correct. Of course I don’t know if there’s a frontline 3 or stuff like that — but yeah, you get what I mean.
> 
> Have fun reading!

23th of October, 1953

Jongho was nudged awake by the train. For a moment he thought he was back in the war again — but after realising that the war was over and he had succesfully left North Korea, and was on his way to South Korea, his heart calmed down again. 

He clutched the bag in his hands, and glanced outside. The weather was still warm and cozy, despite it already being september. It had taken him a bit less than three months to be able to leave North Korea silently without anyone realizing he was gone. 

Jongho sighed. He wondered if everything truly was better in South Korea, but then again, they had to be. North Korea was full of bad people and politics now, and Kim Ilsung made sure to eat well, prohibiting his citizens from doing anything else but working.

To be honest, Jongho could've stayed at home if it wasn't for the dictator-like leadership they had. And of course, for the things he had talked about back then, and for the fact that he was in South. If he was.

Jongho's mind wandered back to that very familiar human. Even thinking of him hurt — the wounds were open, and would be for a long time. The wounds of having to leave the human he loved. Jongho glanced down at the locket hanging around his neck and opened it carefully, staring at the beautiful human inside it before hiding it again. 

Jongho couldn't be caught. He peeked outside of the window the train's carriage had, but saw nothing but endless fields. 

He sat back down to the floor, keeping his eyes far from the cheaply made coffins. The train he was in was no normal one — he was in a train full of brutally killed corpses.

The war had ended three months ago, so the two countries, North Korea and South Korea, were still very, very angry at each other. Catching a normal train to South Korea wasn't possible, so this was the only way. To spend days with hundreds of dead bodies. 

The United Nations had ordered every single dead soldier to be sent to their own countries. Jongho had peeked inside one of those coffins, and he had indeed seen the uniform he had learnt to recognize in one second.

Jongho hated war. He absolutely despised war. Jongho had seen death, sorrow, hunger and anger for months. He had felt all kinds of emotions, and now lived with traumas. 

He tried to believe what his comrade had said once the war had ended: "It was war. War is a situatuon where you need to kill to live. Don't beat yourself up for what you did, you protected your country and that's honorable." But it was hard.

Even if he did it to stay alive, it still wasn't okay. But that was one of the things Jongho didn't want to think about, but unfortunately all his brains did was thinking of the war.

Maybe in South Korea, Jongho would finally be able to start a new life. Maybe in South Korea, Jongho wouldn't be alone anymore. If only he found the man whose picture rested inside the golden, beautiful locket that hung around his neck all the time. 

Jongho missed him. And he would miss him for the rest of his life, and that was just how it was. Heck, Jongho didn't really know him. He didn't know who he really was.

All Jongho knew was that he had fallen in love in the middle of a war, a battle, with an enemy. He had snuck out to see him, he had kissed and kissed until he was out of breath, he had fallen in love until it hurt.

Jongho had also felt his hands on his face for the last time, his lips on his for the last time, the kiss on his knuckles for the last time. He had watched him run away, tears leaking down his own cheeks and cleaning the slightly dirty skin.

Jongho had been a traitor to his own country, he still was, but did he care? No. The things he has heard of South Korea had made him wonder if things really were better someone else, and there he was, on his way to Jinju. With corpses.

Jongho himself had been just almost 19 when he had gotten the letter to join. The war had been going on for over an year already, so he had actually been surprised he had been asked to join at all. He had joined the army immediately, to fight for his own land. Which had proven to be a bad choice.

Jongho hadn't been able to choose which side he wanted to belong to. He lived in the north, there was no way he could've traveled to the south while a war was on.

For the first nine months Jongho had been doing the 'peaceful' stuff like looking out for bombers, sending pigeons with messages, announcing the commands to the radio and doing basic first aid to help hurt soldiers. Then he had been upgraded, and finally in the very last days of march Jongho had joined the infantry.

Now Jongho was a very freshly turned 20-years old man. 

He, who had made the war better, his name was Park Seonghwa. 

Park Seonghwa was 22. Not much older than Jongho, but a bit. He was the handsome South Korean soldier that had struck Jongho like a lightning, even if they were in the middle of a war.

Even thinking of Seonghwa had Jongho squirming. He still remembered that face and those hands so well. He remembered everything, from the first moment to the last moment. Jongho didn't know if it hurt more, he really didn't, but at the same time the first and last thing Jongho wanted to do was to forget.

Seonghwa had been the person that had stolen Jongho's heart. It had never been stolen before, never. But that dangerous and determined face that had slowly morphed into a surprised, frozen one upon their first meeting had taken it. 

Park Seonghwa, oh Park Seonghwa. The soldier of the frontline 3. The man who had a deep, commanding voice and a kind smile.

The frontline 3 was what both Jongho and Seonghwa tried to protect. Their camps were a few, maybe about seven kilometers away from each other. The tunnels they had dug (from where they shot) had the distance of only a bit under a kilometer. 

Seonghwa was all Jongho had ever wanted. He was kind, loving, protective, beautiful on the inside and on the outside. Maybe the circumstances they met in hadn't been the best, maybe they had needed to sneak around, but that didn't matter. Not when the other person was worth it all. Even if loving Seonghwa killed Jongho, it was worth it.

But was Seonghwa alive? 

Had he survived the last month? Was he still alive, breathing, smiling? Were his eyes still twinkling like they always did when he saw Jongho? Did he still hug people like he hugged Jongho? Did he squeeze someone in his arms, trembling hands holding their back, the other one pressing the human's head to the crook of his neck?

Did he still hold back tears when hugging the person he loved? Seonghwa had been near tears every time they met, just like Jongho. 

Did he still whisper sweet words to someone's ears while hugging? Did he still appreciate everyone just like they were? Did he still smile while kissing, did he still hold hands while kissing?

Did he still love Jongho?

Maybe he didn't. Maybe he had found someone elese, maybe he had forgotten Jongho completely. Maybe Jongho was the only one with feelings. Seonghwa had probably moved on, knowing full well that it, this, they, wouldn't work.

Maybe he now hugged someone else just like he had hugged Jongho. Maybe someone else was the receiver of Seonghwa's kisses, sweet words, hugs, fond smiles and tender touches.

If he was alive, that is.

Those thoughts were enough to have tears forming in Jongho's eyes. 

What was he doing this for? What for was he sneaking to South Korea? For himself in hopes to have a better future, or for them? For finding Seonghwa?

To be honest, if it wasn't for their 'relationship', Jongho wouldn't be on his way to Jinju. He really wouldn't. But the promises they made back then kept his chin up.

The sorrow and loneliness grated Jongho on the inside like a cheese grater. Slowly and painfully it thinned him out, removing pieces of his heart. Thorns of roses were attached to him, and day by day, they sank deeper. 

Jongho let himself lay down on the hard floor even if it hurt. He had taken all clothes he could've found from his home, which had been just few rocks there and there. It had been almost completely destroyed, but somehow surprisingly many clothes had survived with a bit of damage. Jongho's parents, they didn't get that good ending. He didn't know where they were. Probably ash on the ground, maybe hostages in South Korea. He had waited for almost three months, asking the North Korean officers about them. They hadn't answered, and Jongho had had to flee. This train was the only one going to South Korea in probably months or even years until the two countries calmed down.

Jongho forced the thoughts away. He pushed himself to think of anything, anything other than that, and he succeeded. Yet another nudge of the train took him back to the war.

5th of June, 1953

"Soldier Choi Jongho?" 

Jongho's head snapped up. He had been on the edge of falling asleep, and now rubbed his tired eyes before registering who was in front of him.

"Yes, Sir!" Jongho said, straightening up immediately, facing his commander like a good soldier.

"Take your stuff. It has been way too quiet today, as if neither of us wants to attack, so we're attacking first. You're taking the frontline." His commander said, and Jongho saluted him before walking to his bed.

Before joining the war, Jongho had thought it was constant fighting until some side ran out of men. Now he had figured out that it was all about the tactic.

Sometimes the frontline was quiet for a day or more. Sometimes they fought many times a day. Now, it was the quiet time again, but not for long.

Jongho grabbed his gun and other stuff he would need, like food and water, a few grenades to stop the tanks and of course bullets.

He was terrified. Of course he was, death could take him any moment. But joining the frontline always felt like playing with death, like teasing it a bit and then laughing. One day it could all end.

"Alright soldiers, let's get moving! Let's protect North Korea with our might and show them just what kind of men we are!"

The soldiers cheered, some of the psychopath ones grinning like maniacs just by thinking of killing humans, or being killed. Jongho knew all countries had these kind of people, but it didn't make being with them easier.

They marched in silence, and sweat already formed on Jongho's forehead just from the heat the sun gave them. The jacket was hot, but he couldn't take it off. It protected him. 

South Korea had the help of the US, the UK, France and god knows how many other countries. They only had China and the Soviet Union, but it was better than nothing. Jongho couldn't complain, and neither did he want to.

The kilometers were walked in no time, taking much less than Jongho would've wanted it to take. Now he began to see the holes again, and just followed the others, jumping into his own cute little hole on the ground, placing his gun well there.

He saw movement in the South Korea's line as well, and that's when the adrenaline hit.

If it was any other normal day, Jongho could've smiled to them while passing on the street. But now he knew that all they wanted to do was to kill him, and that right there had his chest feelings tight.

Even if Jongho wanted away, he could never do it. Danger lurked everywhere around him, no difference whether he was in their camp or in the middle of a forest. 

He saw movement in the corner of his left eye, and even before he realised it, a soldier had thrown a grenade.

That started the attack. The fight. The battle.

Bullets began to fly, and Jongho ducked his helmeted head even more down while trying to see someone he would need to shoot. 

Jongho was a sniper-kind of guy. That was his position. He shot well, so instead of wasting tons of bullets by shooting everywhere, he shot very precisely and killed with one bullet. 

Jongho let his trigger finger sing. He shot and shot, killing the brave South Korean soldiers that had been brave enough to try standing up and running forward. They were clearly winning now.

The first ones from their side got up as well and began running, throwing themselves down to the ground every now and then. Jongho followed.

The battle went on for hours. First Jongho had been able to go forward, then the South had attacked back and Jongho had had to back down. Then the North attacked back, then South. It was crazily tiring, and Jongho was absolutely exhausted.

He wheezed for air as he ran forward again before throwing himself to the ground and shooting. He couldn't stay still, so Jongho gritted his teeth together and forced himself up, pushing his limits again. He tasted blood in his mouth and tried to get up, but it was too hard and his whole body shook.

Thankfully someone threw himself just beside Jongho and said:  
"I'm taking over you. Go back."

Jongho swore he almost cried. Nodding slowly he turned around by crawling, and breathed deeply in. Only the scariest part was left, which was turning his back to the enemy.

With the same technique, Jongho began running back. He ran, threw himself down, ran, threw himself down. That continued until he was a safe distance away and could finally slow down to normal walk.

He knew some soldiers should've come with him, but atleast seven of them were lying on the ground, sleeping eternal sleep. Jongho didn't look back, he just walked, trembling hands looking for the bread in one of his pockets. It was all squeezed and mushed up, but still tasted better than the ground and mud inside his mouth.

After arriving in their camp and taking off his clothes, Jongho threw himself on his bed and closed his eyes, head spinning and muscles relaxing.

"Glad to see you made it back, Jongho." Someone said to him, but Jongho didn't even recognize who. 

He hadn't tried to make any friends here because they would die anyways. The war itself was sad enough, there was no need for losing someone too.

Jongho mumbled a thank you and focused on letting the tiredness take over him. Now he wouldn't need to go to the frontline, at least not today, which meant many hours of sleep. If only he could fall asleep. But it seemed like he couldn't. Something held him back. He tossed and turned.

Just as Jongho was finally drifting to the everland, someone shook him awake. It was his commander, again.

"Sorry to disturb your well deserved sleep, but we lost more men than we expected to do."

They lost what? How could they already know the number of deaths?

"We lost... how?" Jongho asked, sitting up. 

"The battle finally ended. You have been asleep for seven hours." The commander said, calm expression crossing on his face.

Seven hours? It felt like he hadn't fallen asleep at all! How was that even possible?

"We lost too much men. We also lost way too much, which is why I'm bothering you. I need you to take  
Shin Joomyung's job and get information from the South camp."

Jongho could feel the blood draining from his face. He probably paled at least good four shades, not because of losing someone named Joomyung, but because fuck, he needed to go sneak there?

"Commander, I can barely walk properly. I'm afraid I won't make it back alive." Jongho said, voice thin and small.

"I know I'm asking for a lot. You're a young, inexperienced guy who has worked hard today, but I believe in you, Choi. I know you can make it."  
The commander spoke, his hands clutching Jongho's.

"I don't know, Commander..."

"I promise you I'll give you two next days free. You're our only hope, no one else here can do it."

Jongho hesitated for a bit too long, and he saw the look on his commander's face change from pleading to a stone-cold one. They were in a war, anyways. There was no space to say no.

"It's a command. Thirty minutes and you better be on your way."

The commander left, and all Jongho could do was to hang his head low.

He was going to die. Jongho had no where near enough energy to complete such a dangerous and difficult task. They barely had food for everyone, so Jongho couldn't even eat a lot before leaving.

It was a suicide mission, but Jongho didn't have enough energy to even panick anymore. He had lost that emotion a long while ago, leaving only numbness behind.

He began tying his combat boots and pulling on clothes. If he was able to get there and get back, he would be able to sleep for two days straight. It sounded like heaven, so that was probably what kept Jongho going. Of course, the wrath of his commander didn't sound too good either.

He grabbed more bread and stuffed his mouth with it, swallowing down quickly. The secret bottle of rice liquor seemed to be watching him, so Jongho opened it, took a big gulp and closed it. It didn't make him drunk, not even tipsy. It just eased his nerves and helped with the fear of death.

Jongho took a pistol and stepped out. He couldn't take a big gun.

It was getting a bit darker now, both good and bad for him. He greeted a soldier silently and continued to the forest. He glanced at the map and athe compass, and planned his route. Jongho needed to avoid the battle ground, where people were all ready for a fight, even now. He would pass them, but in the forest. The South had won the battle today, and they were closer to North's camp now.

The closer to the battleground he got, the more terrified he became. The route led him deeper into the forest.

Jongho's heart was about to jump out of his chest. He squeezed the pistol with his knuckles white. The forest was absolutely quiet, because even the birds had left the the forest. Humans were cruel, and Jongho hated them for that.

He had to slow down so his steps didn't make any sounds. Even the smallest noise could get the attention on him and start a fire. 

He finally passed the battleground, legs shaking and brains yelling at him to stop and to turn around. 

To be honest, after leaving, at first Jongho had felt numb. Numb on the inside and on the outside. He had known that he needed to do this, but he also knew that he was just walking straight to death. But now he began to feel again. In a war it was both, fortunate and unfortunate. If you felt too much, it could, and would, affect your fighting. If you didn't feel at all, it would turn you into one of those monsters that liked and found killing entertaining. 

Jongho's whole body was shaking now, and he was wheezing for air, despite walking very slowly and carefully. Tears moistened his eyes, and the feeling of panick became stronger by every step he took deeper into his enemy's territory.

Jongho wasn't sure how much more would he need to walk until he would finally reach the camp. He didn't want to know. All Jongho wanted to do was to be back at home with his parents, living happy life. Why had he joined the war? Why hadn't he just escaped the constant death and sorrow?

Jongho had to press a hand to cover his mouth in order to cancel out the wheezes for air. He could hear some yelling, which meant he was close. A sob almost made its way out of Jongho's mouth and he stopped for a second, closing his eyes so the tears fell down. Jongho crossed his fingers and sent a silent prayer up to the sky, asking for a painless death.

Jongho's throat felt closed up and chest tight. He wasn't sure whether he was even able to walk anymore, but luckily his body woke up to a sound of loud laughter. 

Jongho swallowed and whimpered quietly, taking a few very, very slow and careful steps forward so he could hear something. The pistol felt heavy in his hands, because even if someone attacked him now, he wouldn't probably even hit them. Besides, it would attract all the attention on him.

But if Jongho got caught, he would be dragged to be tortured until he let them know all the tactics the North had. It was cruel game.

Jongho's heart was beating so hard that it felt like his whole body was the heart, not just the small organ in his chest. The fast but still steady beat went around his body, making Jongho tremble even more. 

Jongho was now close enough to hear mumbled speaking, and even see the orange flames of a campfire. He was dangerously close.

One mistake and he was done. 

But he would only need to take few steps until he could hear the words clearly. Then Jongho would lay down and listen for as long as needed before walking back. He hoped that it wouldn't get completely dark before that, because straying away from the route could cost him his legs, if a landmine went off. Jongho sniffled very quietly, tear or two running down his face again.

Jongho lifted his left leg to take a step forward, but something, or someone, grabbed him from behind and pushed him very aggressively against a tree. 

Before Jongho could even react and shoot with the pistol, it was kicked away from him, making Jongho hiss when the combat boot's tip crushed his fingers. He hoped they weren't broken. Jongho's hands were both quickly in the person's fist, and pressed above his head against the tree.

However, the worry about whether his fingers were broken was the smallest concern he had now. He could feel the cold metal of a gun against his forehead, and for a second Jongho's mind went black. He wasn't out for more than two seconds, and then he began resisting. More tears leaked out of his eyes. He was done for.

But when Jongho looked at the person's face who was holding him very, very tightly, his brains malfunctioned.

The man was simply breathtaking. Maybe it was the worst moment to think about someone's looks, but truly, Jongho was mesmerized. His heart beat so fast that Jongho thought it would jump out of his chest.

The man was staring at him, looking a bit startled. His eyes were widely open, and mouth a bit ajar, looking frozen.

The man had high cheekbones, a straight nose and plump lips. His face was absolutely angelic, as if the gods themselves had taken their time making him. His skin was tanned, and the brown hair that looked a bit like it had been mixed with black was slicked back, some of the strands curling beautifully on his forehead.

Jongho pressed his eyes closed and inhaled a big gulp of air. He was trembling like a leaf, even when he was being pressed against the tree. Despite the handsome soldier, he had seen enough. He had seen the flag on the man's bicep, and it was different from what Jongho carried. 

Jongho felt yet another sob try to tear itself free from his throat. His brows furrowed and lips trembled, before his body slumped. 

He had lost his battle.

"Please kill me quickly." Jongho whispered, body spasming once with the sob he let out. 

He didn't get an answer. Nothing happened, absolutely nothing, even if Jongho had prepared for death.

If the man didn't kill him now, he would bring Jongho to their camp. That made Jongho panick even more.

But when something soft touched Jongho's cheek, he opened his tearful eyes to look at the man. 

The man looked calm, but concentrated. His face was serious, but not angry or dangerous anymore.

Had he just wiped away Jongho's tear?

The gun was no more pressed against Jongho's forehead, but Jongho just stared at the man instead of trying to break free. His heart jumped to his throat again, feeling so, so weird. He had never felt anything like that.

The man brought his hand up again, swiping away yet another tear that had fallen free from Jongho's eyelashes. 

They were quiet for a while, both just staring at each other's eyes without saying anything. It was a miracle that the noises from the forest hadn't attracted any kind of attention.

Jongho finally felt his eyes and the tears on his cheeks dry up, when no more came out.

"Run." The man whispered, and let go of Jongho's hands.

And god, Jongho ran. He turned around and ran like there was someone chasing him. He ran faster than he had ever done, adrenaline pumping through his veins and circulating around his body, giving him more stamina and energy. Even with so tiny amount of rest or food inside him he still had it in him to run the kilometers back to his camp.

When he finally arrived there, Jongho crashed to his knees and wheezed for air. 

"Soldier Choi got back! Go tell the commander!" Someone yelled.

Jongho wondered just how disappointed would everyone be in him. And if he could see the man some day again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome!
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/cloudyjjongie?s=21)


	2. You gave me what I needed

24th of October, 1953

The train slowed down, so Jongho hauled his bag over his shoulder again, and peeked through the window. The speed was still a tiny bit too fast to jump out of, but he couldn't really wait for much longer.

There was no way to get out of the train if not now. He would be questioned and killed, which didn't sound too good. Jongho also had to learn the Southern accent, the Gyeonsang satoori, because he spoke the North Korean one. It could draw a lot of attention on him, and in the worst case scenario alert the police.

Jongho pushed open the door, and immediately got hit by the wind. He saw the platform already, and it was full of people, so Jongho gritted his teeth together and jumped out. He knew that if someone was looking, they would see him, but he needed to try.

The train was pretty high, so jumping hurt his legs. Jongho let himself fall down and roll a few times to slow down the speed he had come down with. He knew he should've jumped earlier, but that would've broken his legs, so he had no other options.

He stood up, and glanced both ways, thinking of where to go, but the aggressive yell decided for him.

"HEY! WHO ARE YOU?"

Jongho didn't glance back. He began running towards the opposite direction from the men, bag hitting his side repeatedly. He had gotten a very good stamina in the war, so he was fast, way faster than those commanders who were used to doing nothing and making others run around.

Jongho had no idea where to go. The trainstation's playform one was left behind, and he glanced back once, seeing some men after him. So he took a left and climbed over the space between two train cars, jumping down on the other side and then continuing through the tracks and towards the streets that would hopefully lead him to the centre of Jinju.

His trick had definitely confused his chasers, and Jongho ran now alone. He finally arrived at the other platform and patted himself on his shoulder mentally.

He only slowed down once the trainstation was left behind, and the streets of Jinju were in front of him.

Seoul, like every other city, had really suffered during the war. It had been bombed, but it had also been used as a battleground. It had been damaged so badly, that the capital was relocated to Busan, so they could focus on reconstructing Seoul. Seoul was South Korea's capital, but now they needed to work hard to make it better again.

People were building new houses, rebuilding old houses, opening shops and genuinely trying to go back to normal. Or what used to be normal. But Jongho knew that every single human in that city was heavily traumatized by the war, even if they didn't show it.

Someone might wonder, just why was Jongho in Jinju? Busan was only 85 kilometers away from it, and it was a much bigger city. It would be a good city to start a new life in.

But once again, there was only few facts Jongho learned about Seonghwa during the war. And one of them had really stayed in his mind, and it was Seonghwa's hometown. He was from Jinju, so the first guess where to find him was here.

A couple walked past Jongho, talking loudly. The dialect was so different yet so familiar, Seonghwa always spoke it even if he tried to tone it down. Hearing it again sent shivers down Jongho's spine. He would need to keep his mouth closed until he learned some of that.

He first motel or just some kind of place with rentable rooms finally came across, and Jongho walked in, looking around. It looked clean and homely.

"Hi, do you still have rooms left for rent?" Jongho asked the man behind the desk.

The man lifted his head up and stared at Jongho for a long while, the silence getting thicker second by second. His eyes were cold and unwelcoming, and now he glanced behind his back. Jongho began fidgetting, and cold sweat threatened to take over his back.

"Mind repeating that?" The man asked. His accent was thick, just like Seonghwa's, and it was a bit hard to understand.

"Oh... of course. Do you have a room available, which you could rent for me?" Jongho asked again, not knowing how to change from North Korean accent to South Korean one. Plus, the Busan area accent was so different.

"Mingi! Come here, there's an alien who doesn't speak korean well!" The man yelled.

Jongho's brains took a moment to understand what he had just been called, and he almost became offended. An alien that doesn't speak korean well?

But in the middle of that, desperation filled him. How could he ever survive here if speaking was this hard? How could he ever live with Seonghwa if even understanding took two humans? It was just an accent difference, yet the first person he had met hadn't even understood him.

Then again, they had understood each other well during the war. Seonghwa had known plenty of North Korean words, and toned his natural accent down.

Another man walked downstairs, brushing back his light brown hair. The sides of his hair had been buzzed away, giving the hair a nice contrast. There was something red on the buzzed hair — it was new, but refreshing.

"Yeah?" The man, Mingi, asked, looking at both, Jongho and the other man.

"Speak." The man ordered, to which Jongho nodded.

"I would like to rent a room." He said, for the third time.

Mingi sighed.  
"Wooyoung, stop being so damn dramatic all the time. He clearly speaks korean, just the northern one." Mingi said.

"Yes, we have a room for you. Welcome. Fill this, and you're done. Oh and, leave the first rent in that box now." He continued, smacking Wooyoung on the back of his head.

"You're fucking annoying, you know that? You're scaring our customers away by acting even dumber than you are!" Mingi continued.

Jongho just took the file and filled it with his info like his name and age, leaving the hometown purposely out.

"What do you mean by acting dumber than I am? Are you saying that I'm dumb? He just spoke so weirdly! It wasn't my fault!" Wooyoung complained.

"He has a different accent, that's that." A third voice joined the conversation, making Jongho snap his head up. 

A man, that was a bit shorter than Wooyoung and Mingi, came down as well, blue hair cut very short and few braids attached to its sides. He also had an eyebrow slit.

"But he's from North Korea! We should give him to police, shouldn't we? He might be a spy!" Wooyoung kept on babbling, to which the third one answered by stuffing a file paper inside his mouth.

"Wooyoung!" The man hissed.

Jongho hadn't even realised he was shaking again. The hold he had on the pen was so tight that it was bending, ready to snap any moment.

Just like Jongho.

He decided this was not his place. He would not be able to sleep well if he knew someone would give him to police.

Jongho crumbled the paper and fished a lighter from his pocket, lightning the file on fire. He wouldn't leave any traces of his info behind now that his home country had been revealed.

The three men fell silent again, now watching Jongho burn the paper. He turned around and picked up his bag from the floor, walking towards the door.

"No, no no, don't leave!" The third man yelled, quickly running to stop Jongho by grabbing his wrist.

Jongho snapped his head back, biting his lip to stay calm. He wasn't sure what emotion was going to come out of him if he let it, was it tears or anger? 

"I'm so sorry about Wooyoung. He speaks stuff he doesn't mean. I'm Hongjoong, and I own this motel. I would love nothing more than to have you as my guest." Hongjoong said, eyes sincere and thumb caressing Jongho's knuckles.

Jongho glanced at Wooyoung, before looking back at Hongjoong.

"I don't want to be judged by my home town. It might be better if I looked for another place to stay." He answered.

"No, please stay. I can guarantee you my motel is better than the ones you're going to find. Give it a try, yeah? You can leave whenever you want to."

Jongho thought about it, but sighed and nodded. It was getting late, so he needed to have a roof on top of his head quickly.

"Thank you. Please fill the file again." Hongjoong said, giving Jongho a new one.

Jongho placed his bag on the floor and walked back, writing his info down yet again.

"In this household we don't judge people, no matter how they speak, look or sound like." Hongjoong said strictly to Wooyoung, who bowed his head shamedly.

"But don't you think North Koreans shouldn't be here? They killed and fought on this ground." Jongho asked while writing.

"So did South Koreans. They, and we, even if we didn't participate in the war, killed and fought just as well." Mingi answered.

So they hadn't experienced the horrors of a war. That made Jongho want to be proud of making it out alive and almost completely sane, because these three would've definitely died in the first five minutes, no matter what their job was. Jongho survived over an year.

"You were absolutely right," Jongho said to Mingi, putting weight on his accent to make it heavier. Just to scare Wooyoung.

"I am from North Korea." Jongho said, feeling like weight was lifted off his chest.

Wooyoung, Hongjoong and Mingi were silent. The quarrel they had had had hurt Jongho.

"But please. Treat me like a human. I'm here to start again. I'm here to find a person who was important to me. Those are my only intentions." Jongho said, giving Hongjoong the file and putting the first rent's money to the box.

"Of course, no need to worry about that here. Please let us know if we can help any way. Oh, and we have dinner in fifteen minutes. Breakfast is at 9AM, lunch around 1PM, snacks or more lunch at 4PM and dinner at 8PM. Make yourself comfortable." Hongjoong said and smiled, giving Jongho his key.

"Thank you." Jongho thanked him, taking his bag and walking the stairs up.

"Come eat after settling your stuff so the food is still warm!" Hongjoong yelled after him, and Jongho nodded, even if Hongjoong wouldn't be able to see it.

He had a room for himself. Just a tiny room with a desk and a bed, but it was more than enough. It was luxury compared to the hard things at the camp that couldn't even be called beds. 

Jongho put his bag to the floor and folded the clothes he had to the small closet in the corner, glancing at the soldier uniform in the bag. Yes, it was incredibly stupid and stupidly brave to carry it around, but he hadn't had the heart to leave it. He had taken pretty much everything that had survived the war, including a photo of him and his parents. 

Suddenly the locket felt heavy and hot against Jongho's skin, like it was reminding him of what he was here for. Jongho caressed the locket a bit, giving it a small kiss. He missed Seonghwa so much that it was driving him crazy. It truly was, but Jongho was good at shoving emotions back to where they came from. 

He left the room, locking it, so no one could go through his stuff. He walked back downstairs and followed a piece of paper attached to the wall that would lead him to the dining room.

Hongjoong, Mingi and Wooyoung were already eating there, and the tallest of them gave Jongho a small wave.

"Perfect timing! Come on, Hongjoong made soft tofu stew!" 

Jongho sat down, eyeing Wooyoung warily, as if waiting for a snarky comment. He was disturbed by Hongjoong's hand who gave him a huge bowl of the said stew, smiling gently.

"Dig right in. You look like you need some food." 

Jongho nodded and grabbed chopsticks, eyeing it now. He couldn't see beef — which was very understandable, thinking of the circumstances — but definitely saw tofu. It would take a while for South Korea to get better and rise up from this poorness, but they would make it, slowly but surely. Jongho knew that. Unlike in the North, here the country and people had a future. Maybe one day South Korea would have some big companies known around the world. Jongho wished it would come soon. He was tired of living in misery.

The soft tofu stew smelled delicious, but also very familiar. Jongho couldn't remember when or where could've he tasted it, but somehow it was so familiar. He shrugged on the inside and carefully picked some vegetables and tofu up, blowing on it to calm it down before tasting it.

The taste exploded in his mouth, the perfect spiciness taking over but complementing the soft tofu and vegetables.

At that moment, Jongho finally remembered where he had eaten this.

10th of June, 1953

"Soldier Choi Jongho?" 

Jongho wanted to close everything out. He was absolutely exhausted, and would not want to have anything to do now. But he knew he didn't have a choice, so like an old, rusty doll, he sat up, looking at the commander again.

"Yes, Sir. That's me." He answered.

"You're repeating the same thing you did a few nights back. You need to get some info out of South's plans." The commander said.

No. Please no. Jongho couldn't do it. Not again.

Jongho could barely keep himself awake. He was nowhere near the state of being able to walk for kilometers and being alert all the time. He knew he would die. There was no doubt of it, he was completely spent. The war and battles had really taken a toll on him, and their food delivery had been stolen (by South's people) so they lacked the food.

But Jongho had no choice. He could not say no, or complain. He needed to do it. 

"Yes, Sir. I'll leave immediately." He said.

"Get something out of them so you don't need to repeat this every three days." The commander spat, ready to leave.

"Of course, Sir." Jongho mumbled, and then let his head fall. He covered his face with his hands and just focused on breathing for a while.

Jongho grabbed the same pistol as few days back and tied his shoelaces, standing up while gritting his teeth together.

He was on his way to his death, but for some reason, he didn't try to slow down. He wanted to be fast so it could all be over quickly.

Jongho cared about himself and his life. He wanted to live a normal life after the war, he wanted to stay alive — but right now, he was so tired, that even death felt like a reward. He could rest if he was dead.

Jongho began walking, following the map and compass again.

During the last five days, the situation had changed pretty drastically. The frontline had first moved to be dangerously close to North's camp, but then they had gained some distance back again.

Jongho wished something could change. Maybe they could defeat the South's people here and continue deeper to the South Korea soon — but as long as they still had too few men, it was not reachable. Besides, Jongho knew the Americans would come back with bombers soon. That would bring some more spice to the fight. And Jongho did not like that spice.

Jongho walked, passing a body but not giving it even a glance. It was better that way.

His step were slow and felt heavy, like he was a giant from the fairytale Jongho had heard when he was small. But still, the kilometers went past fairly quickly. They always did.

But in the last five days that had gone by, all Jongho could've done has been thinking about the man. He was unsure about just why hadn't he been killed that night — just why had they both frozen and stared at each other like there had been nothing else to look at.

The man had committed a war crime by letting Jongho go. 

Jongho slowed down even more, the familiar rush of adrenaline reaching his blood again. His heartbeat grew faster and faster, and he could feel the sweat prickling down his back, not due to walking but due to the fear.

Jongho's body felt numb. His stomach growled, and for a moment he thought someone could hear it. Sleep tried to press his eyelids closed but he fought against it and walked, nearing the camp second by second.

As Jongho got nearer the spot he had been at yesterday, he did not even try to get closer. He plopped himself down quietly, making sure no one could see him even if they looked. He started to focus on what he heard and what he could bring back.

The panick felt at least three times less bad today than five days ago. It was probably because of the lack of care due to the complete loss of energy. Or maybe he was used to it. Maybe, just maybe. Maybe he really did know that he was playing with fire while being completely soaked in gasoline. One movement or sound could be the spark of the fire that would take over his body in half a second, lighting him up. Jongho could do nothing but suffer as the flame licked him.

But the sound of someone's steps behind him made Jongho turn his head around so quickly, that his neck let out a crack. He scrambled to get the pistol, but before he could get it, he recognized the man.

It was the same man who had let him go. That kind of calmed Jongho down, but he couldn't help but think that what if now the man would just kill him? He couldn't trust a Southern. Never.

The man stared at Jongho and the pistol that was now pointed at him — even if it trembled. Jongho couldn't get up, he was paralyzed with the fear. And maybe, just maybe, his body had finally given up.

The man squatted down, giving Jongho a small smile as he pointed at the pistol. He reached for his own and placed it on the ground, showing, that he did not want to shoot Jongho.

But Jongho wasn't fooled that easily. He still stared at the man with wide eyes and quickly beating heart.

"I'm not going to hurt you. You can put your gun away." The man said calmly, quietly.

His voice was so sincere, just like those sparkling eyes of his, that Jongho actually believed him. Yes, Jongho was an idiot for doing that, but he placed his gun beside the man's.

Jongho rolled over to his back and sat up, heart beating so fast that he thought he might actually die of a heart attack or something.

"It's you again." Jongho said back, voice trembling and small.

"I could say the same about you. We meet here again."

The small smile on the man's face was very warming and kind. It made Jongho's racing heart skip a beat, to feel a bit better again.

A small, very small smile made its way to Jongho's face too, against all the things his brains tried to say to him.

"Yeah." He answered.

The man looked Jongho up and down, brows furrowing in worry.

"You look tired."

Jongho swallowed, very, very surprised at just why was this soldier worried about him.

"Just a little." He answered.

The man stood up suddenly, alerting Jongho, but he just smiled and shook his head, pressing his index finger to his lips. He shushed Jongho, held up five fingers (which probably meant five minutes) and slowly started walking away.

Jongho thought of running away now. The fear had come back again, he didn't know what the man meant. What would come after 5 minutes? More soldiers with him, or maybe a huge assault rifle? Maybe a bomb? 

Jongho laid down again, trying to stay hidden.

Those five minutes were the slowest minutes he had ever felt in his life. The eerie atmosphere around the camp made shivers run down his spine every now and then, as if he wasn't scared enough.

The man came back with some stuff in his hands, and motioned Jongho to follow him.

Jongho stood up, using all of the energy he had left and followed him, the two of them sneaking in the forest. They didn't walk far though, just enough to be safe from curious ears.

"Sit down." The man said, and Jongho did. 

Jongho let out a sigh and leaned against a tree, looking at the sky and praying for energy.

"Here. I brought you food." The man said, making Jongho look at him. He had a very thick accent that had Jongho's head spinning with weird-sounding words, but it was understandable.

"You brought me... food?" Jongho repeated.

The man just smiled and nodded, giving Jongho a cup of something that still emitted steam. It smelt heavenly.

"You probably haven't been able to eat in a long while. Please enjoy the food."

Jongho hesitated. Eating the food now meant accepting the favor, which would lead to debt or owing something. But he was so hungry, that Jongho turned his brains off and began eating.

The food, whatever it was, was so delicious, that he inhaled it in minutes. His empty stomach took it, bread, and some chocolate as well. 

Jongho considered switching sides just for the food.

After he had eaten, they sat in silence for a while before the man spoke up.

"My name is Park Seonghwa, from South Korea." He said, still, god, still smiling like an angel. 

"I'm Choi Jongho. From North." Jongho answered, feeling a bit shy under the heavy gaze of the other man.

Seonghwa let out a small chuckle.  
"Never would've I thought I would be doing something like this."

Jongho looked up at him again (he had let his eyes fall off) and nodded.  
"I don't get it either. Actually, why did you let me go?" He asked, going straight to the point he was very curious of.

"Because I didn't want you to die." Seonghwa answered.

"This is war." Jongho said, staring at him. 

Seonghwa's eyes darkened and he nodded, probably pondering what to say.

"This is. But war should have something humane too, right? I saw that you were very scared and tired. It wasn't a fair fight." Seonghwa answered, reaching to pat Jongho's hand. 

Jongho almost flinched, but kept it in.  
"I'm very thankful about that. But my commander said that I need to continue doing this until I find something out, so I will be sneaking around for a long while." 

Seonghwa tilted his head and kept quiet for a while.  
"Tell your commander that the american bombers are coming in two days."

Jongho's mouth fell open. He lunged forward to press his hand against Seonghwa's mouth, eyes wide. He was absolutely horrified, how could Seonghwa reveal something like that to him? He was an enemy!

"What are you doing? You can't do that! No matter what is going on!" Jongho hissed. 

They were the opposite sides, but somehow still cared at each other's safety. It was crazy, absolutely insane, but somehow felt like the right thing to do.

Seonghwa's hand grabbed Jongho's wrist gently and pried it away, smiling softly and laughing a bit.

"Yes, these are war secrets, yes, I shouldn't do that, but I don't want you to come back. Me finding you both times instead of someone else has been sheer luck, but I know that if there's a next time it won't end like this." Seonghwa answered, leaning better against the tree behind him again.

"You could've told me something smaller," Jongho said, still feeling grateful for getting some information.

"Your commander would've sent you back if I had."

They stared at each other for a while quietly, and Jongho let his eyes rake through Seonghwa.

He was very kind, at least that's what he had shown Jongho. But at the same time he was very dumb for leaving Jongho alive.

"I think I should head back before others become too curious of what am I doing. You too, so you can be safe." Seonghwa said, standing up.

Jongho stood up too, feeling so much better because of the food. He finally had energy.

"Thank you. Really, for everything. I owe you." Jongho said, but Seonghwa just shook his head gently as the answer.

"No, you don't. Don't worry about it."

Jongho pursed his lips together, but nodded. It felt wrong to use Seonghwa's kindness like this.

"Listen, Jongho. I think you're a wonderful guy, judged by what I have seen. Stay safe, alright? I know the life at your camp might be very exhausting now that you don't have the food we stole. And with your commander making you do these tasks. But it'll pass. This war won't be going on forever." Seonghwa said.

Jongho might have fallen for the charming smile that was on Seonghwa's face all the time. His plump lips were curled to a soft smile, dark eyes sparkling kindly.

Jongho bit his lip. Should he..? Was it okay? He really needed one. But was it stupid? They didn't really know each other. But still... it was now or never.

Jongho wrapped his arms around Seonghwa's body and hugged him, pressing his cheek on Seonghwa's shoulder.

"I know. You stay safe too. Let's hope this ends quickly so we don't have to be scared anymore." Jongho answered, feeling Seonghwa's hands wrap around his body too.

"Yeah. Stay strong, and I will too. And be careful."

Jongho let go and gave Seonghwa a small smile, taking few steps back. He didn't really want to leave, but Seonghwa was right, people would go searching for him soon if he didn't go back. So Jongho turned around and began to leave, but his name was called softly.

"Jongho."

Jongho turned around to look at Seonghwa.

"Don't come back here. Promise me. I won't be here for a few days, so if you get caught, you'll have a bit different ending. Even if your commander demands you to, don't." Seonghwa said, voice laced with sincerity.

Jongho nodded.  
"I promise you."

Seonghwa smiled a bit more and nodded, looking relieved.

"See you, maybe, some day. Thank you for everything." Jongho continued, but turned around, and began walking back to the camp, Seonghwa's body disappearing to the opposite direction's dark forest too.

The moon was shining brightly, and even the stars had come out. It was a beautiful night.

And for the first time in a long while, Jongho felt relatively calm while walking in the forest. Even in the middle of a war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello, heya❤️
> 
> Merry christmas everyone! A bit late though haha. Well, it’s okay.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I still haven’t started writing the next jonghwa but I will start working on it soon.🥰
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/cloudyjjongie?s=21) and [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/Cloudyjongho)


	3. Beat me ’til I’m numb

25th of october, 1953

Jongho was never a good sleeper, but tonight, it seemed like the sleep wouldn't come at all.

The clock ticked quietly on the wall, signifying that yes, hours had gone by just like that, with Jongho rolling around in his bed.

He had tried the breathing exercises. He had tried stretching, he had tried making his own stories in his head, he had tried it all, but nothing helped. First the blanket made him too hot, but if he took it off partly, he became cold. The bed felt a bit too soft, as if his body was heavy and sank inside the mattress.

One moment Jongho felt too lonely, the second he just wanted to curl up on his own.

After hours, he finally sat up and ruffled his hair. He was so frustrated of not being able to sleep even if he felt like falling asleep while standing.

Maybe it was the strange, new environment. He was in a different country, on his own, and he was free. It was weird after leaning on other people's commands and opinions for such a long time.

Jongho walked down the stairs, not caring enough to change his pajamas to something better. He wanted some water, so he walked to kitchen.

The water felt good sliding down his roughed and dry throat, easing the pain he hadn't even know existed. He was hungry too, but had no food. Besides, he was too tired to even cook something.

"Couldn't sleep?" A voice asked behind Jongho, and he turned around to look at Hongjoong before nodding.

"Yeah."

"I'll make you tea. We also have this very good dessert-like bread. Nothing is better than tea and bunggeobbang in the middle of a night, it really calms you down." Hongjoong said, smiling kindly.

"I can't possibly ask for anything more than what you already offer me. It would be very disrespectful." Jongho answered, even if the thought of food was very tempting.

"It's nothing, really. We don't have a lot of customers anyways, so all this food would go to waste." Hongjoong said, making gestures with his hands while searching for the tea.

Jongho nodded, and sat down, watching as Hongjoong boiled water and put tealeaves in it.

"This region's accent is very nice." Jongho commented, which made Hongjoong turn around and smile at him.

"Really? Thank you. I'm not originally from here, but I have taken it too. It's very strong, isn't it? Have you heard it before coming here?" Hongjoong asked, placing the fish shaped things on the table.

"Yeah. A friend of mine spoke it — but he always toned it down for me." Jongho answered, and watched as Hongjoong poured tea to their cups.

"That is very nice of him. Is he the one you're here for?" Hongjoong asked as he reached for one of the fish-shaped breads and bit into it.

"Yeah."

Hongjoong smiled and nodded, encouraging Jongho to take one.  
"These are waffles. There's sweet red bean paste inside. Try it! I don't know if you have had it, but it's a thing the japanese people brought here."

Jongho bit into one, and looked up to see Hongjoong looking at him with expectant eyes.

"What do you think? Good, right? Come on! It's delicious, am I right?" He fussed, trying to get a reaction out of Jongho.

"It's good," Jongho said. It really was.

"Just good? You wound me, Jongho. I want more adjectives. Describe it." Hongjoong encouraged him.

That made Jongho smile again, after a long, long while.  
"It's absolutely delicious. The best waffle I have ever eaten in my life. Breathtaking. Marvelous. Totally something unseen. Record-breaking. Legendary. Iconic." Jongho listed, making dramatic gestures like pressing his hand on top of his heart.

Hongjoong started laughing loudly, and threw his head back while clapping.  
"Who knew you could be so funny?"

Jongho shrugged and smiled smugly, eating more. Hongjoong ate too, but he had fallen serious again.

"You know, Wooyoung is very sorry for what he said. He sulked the entire evening, beating himself for saying something like that to you. He is a very kind man, he just has a big mouth." He said, looking at Jongho with very sincere eyes.

"It's okay. I mean, I am a person from a country that destroyed yours. Of course people hate North Koreans, it's just natural. If you went to North Korea and announced your nationality, you would get thrown into jail to wait until you were killed." Jongho said. He understood, he really did.

"When did you arrive here?" Hongjoong asked.

"Right before I walked into your motel. I had luck and catched the last train that brought fallen soldiers here." 

Jongho had checked all of the coffins in the train, and he had not seen Seonghwa. So he was hoping that his precious lover was alive.

"What about your parents? Do they know you're here?"

"They're dead. Our house was destroyed while I was away in the war. I am basically all I have, and the... friend I am here for." Jongho answered, and Hongjoong hummed. He was glad Hongjoong hadn't started pitying him like everyone else.

"Is your friend from here?" He asked.

Jongho nodded.  
"Yeah. Do you think you might know him?" 

"I mean, I might? I haven't been living here for that many years so I don't really know a lot of people outside my friend group, but shoot."

Hopefulness grew in Jongho's chest. He might find Seonghwa with Hongjoong's help if he knew him!

Jongho pulled the locket from inside his shirt and opened it, showing it to Hongjoong.  
"His name is Park Seonghwa. Does he look familiar?"

The hope he had had emptied out of him the moment Hongjoong shook his head. Jongho hid the locket inside his shirt again, making sure it hung safely around his neck but was still hidden.

"I moved here a year before the war, and looks like your friend was a soldier. So I wouldn't know him. Sorry." Hongjoong apologized.

"It's fine. I'll find him some day, I hope."

A few hours and many of those waffles later, Jongho was walking down the street, hand clutching the locket tightly. He was looking for people he could ask and find out if they knew the man in the picture.

Jinju was a nice city to live in. It wasn't too small or big, just the average size of a bit over 330 000 citizens. It hadn't been damaged in the war, so everything was pretty much back to 'normal' if the 'normality' was judged by the city's buildings and life.

Seonghwa had promised Jongho that they would find each other. They had both promised it, but now that Jongho really thought of it, what if Seonghwa was currently on his way to North Korea?

No, he wouldn't be that stupid. Jongho had waited for three months for him, but then decided that it was better to act now. Plus, he had wanted to get out of the corrupted country. 

"Excuse me?" Jongho asked as he neared a man. The man looked up and nodded, waiting for Jongho to continue.

"Have you seen this man? Or do you know who he is?" Jongho asked again, taking off his locket and opening it to show the man the picure.

The answer was an immediate shook of head. A bubble that had been excited inside him burst, and Jongho nodded, thanking the man and walking forward again.

Well, that had been just one man. Maybe someone else knew.

No one knew. Maybe it was just a wrong day, and maybe he just asked the wrong people. That's what Jongho told himself, the feeling of sorrow and missing someone squeezing his heart again.

As Jongho walked past a construction site, someone yelled something before a loud sound was heard.

Even if it was just a block of concrete that dropped, it sounded exactly like a bomb, which set Jongho off.

He immediately threw himself to the ground and protected his head and neck with his hands, feeling like he couldn't breathe. His chest felt too tight and he wanted to writhe around and breathe, but he couldn't. Tears sprung to his eyes, but instead of seeing the city of Jinju, he was brought back to the memories on the day he was almost killed, again.

20nd of June, 1953

Many different incidents had led Jongho to this moment. He didn't really know what had he done to deserve something like this. Someone wanted him dead, and that was sure.

Jongho was in the middle of a forest, no idea where he even was. His helmet kept on falling on his face when he ran, and the secret message that was safely tucked in his chest pocket felt heavy. 

He had been cursed to be a messenger because apparently the last one had died. So there he was, running for his life, to find the other camp that should be somewhere there.

The only problems were the American bombers that were flying over him all the time, as if looking for something, and the South Korean soldiers that were somewhere around Jongho.

He had the important message, and it had to be protected and handed to the correct commander. But in these circumstances, it was so hard.

Jongho cursed as he threw himself to the ground again, trying to mask himself there. He didn't know why the bombers didn't leave. Maybe they had heard of him, and were looking for him.

If they saw him, Jongho would be the victim of at least ten bombs. He would not make it back alive if they saw him.

Jongho let himself lay on the ground for a while to get his breathing back to calm. It was too quick and painful, he couldn't continue without a break, so he took a sip of his water bottle before standing up.

He glanced at his compass and the map that did not help at all. He was completely lost, and it was purely because of those fucking bombers and soldiers.

Without them, Jongho could've continued walking and jogging in peace. He could've gotten to the correct place in 10 hours maximum, but now he didn't know if he could make it back anymore. Maybe he would just die in the forest, to hunger and thirst, or to his own bullet. 

That was if the bombers didn't find him.

Seonghwa hadn't lied to him. The bombers had come in exactly two days, proving Jongho correct to his commander. He had been absolutely amazed by Jongho's skill, and that right there, was the reason why Jongho had been chosen on this trip instead of someone else.

At first Jongho had actually kind of enjoyed it, but when he had heard the first sounds of the bombers while being in the middle of a literal field, he had lost it and had begun running to the forest. Luckily he had made it, but that had taken its reward, and made Jongho lose his spot on the map for a while.

It would've been fine if Jongho could've just turned back and walked back to the field, but he had began hearing marching, and had indeed seen at least three to four dozens of South Korean soldiers crossing the field Jongho had just ran away from.

So that took off the option of going back, and he had started trying to get back on the track through the forest, but then the bombers had come back and he had ran again.

Jongho glanced to the sky, and didn't see any airplanes, so he began running again. 

Jongho had kept on running to west, because the camp was situated in west from Jongho's frontline 3, so at least the compass point had been correct for a while. Now he was just plain lost, because he had no idea where frontline 3 or basically anything was.

If Jongho had strayed too far from the correct track, he could end up at the South Korea's camp, which was not a good thing for him.

He was running in peace when he began hearing sounds that could not be made up by the nature.

Jongho's heart jumped to his throat, and he stopped to press himself againts a tree to listen.

People were marching towards him. They were coming from where Jongho had been running to, so if he was lucky, they could be North's soldiers that could help him find the camp.

If not, then he was more than fucked.

He tried to make himself impossible to see, but he felt like leaning against a tree was the wrong choice. He should've laid down to the ground, but now it was too late. Any kind of moving could attract their attention.

The secret message was still pressed against his heart in his chest pocket, and somehow it began feeling heavy again. Jongho knew he had something that if it was lost to enemy's hands, it would cost hundreds or even dozens of thousands lives.

The marching came closer, and Jongho really regretted standing. He peeked over his shoulder and saw the soldiers still relatively far away, so he threw himself to the ground as fast as he could. From there he could finally see that they were indeed South Korean soldiers, which only added to his stack of worries. There weren't that much of them, maybe just ten, but it was ten too much.

The soldiers came closer, and Jongho held his breath — he couldn't make himself seen. It would be his end, just like that. 

"I think we have company." He heard one of the soldiers say, and Jongho cursed in his mind. 

There was no way they could've seen him. He had tried to stay still and hide behind the bushes, but something had given him away. 

Jongho was terrified. His breathing was still faster than normal, the running had took his energy, and now this new, scary situation made the panick rise again.

If he made it out alive, Jongho promised to never complain about anything. Tears filled his eyes and he prayed. Prayed that maybe God would save him, even if he had never been a very religious person.

"Yeah, we do. Mind getting him?"

Jongho had no other option than to stay still and hope he hadn't been seen. That the 'company' they had was another soldier, not he. That was a very, very selfish thought. But Jongho had the message. He had to be a bit selfish.

But when steps came closer to him, he knew his game was played. Jongho scrambled up and pointed his gun at the man, hoping to get a hostage situation, but what he saw made his arms feel weak again.

Seonghwa was the one he was pointing his gun at, and Jongho wanted to cry.

But Seonghwa acted like he had never seen Jongho, and quickly twisted the gun away from Jongho's weak and shaking hands, and pushed Jongho against the tree, pressing his pistol against Jongho's head again. 

Jongho felt paralyzed. He knew he was done, but being killed in front of and maybe by Seonghwa was something he had never thought could happen. Had he trusted him too early?

"Look what we have." Another man said, coming closer. "A rat from the North."

Jongho swallowed, trying to keep himself calm and composed even if he was so scared that he felt like fainting. 

"What are you doing here?" Seonghwa asked strictly, his voice nowhere near the soft one he had always used with Jongho.

"I-I'm trying to get back to my camp." Jongho squeaked, a bead of sweat running down his face.

"You're going to the wrong direction. What's the real reason?" The other man that had spoken earlier asked, stepping to stand beside Seonghwa.

"T-that is the reason! I got l-lost because of your p-planes." Jongho continued, his heart beating so hard that he thought he'd die from it jumping out of his chest.

Seonghwa glanced at the man, who glanced back at him. Then he felt himself being pulled a bit forward, only to be thrown against the tree harshly again. It was enough to make him whimper.

"Are you a messenger?" The man asked again.

Seonghwa's dark eyes were looking at Jongho like he was studying him. Jongho found it hard to breathe or speak, he just shook his head, swallowing. He was so scared.

"You are. Tell us your message before I bust your brains out." Seonghwa hissed, making Jongho's heart skip a beat.

He had two things on his mind; Seonghwa was 1) a very good actor or 2) nothing he had shown Jongho. This was not the Seonghwa Jongho had been thinking about for the last ten days. 

"I-I'm not. I'm just a soldier." Jongho continued, voice weak.

The man beside Seonghwa chuckled, and was about to speak again, when a South Korean soldier came running behind them.

"BOMBERS FROM THE SOVIET UNION ARE COMING! THEY ARE GOING TO DESTROY OUR CAMP!" The soldier yelled, making everyone panick, even Jongho.

The Soviet Union was on his side, but if they saw him, they wouldn't know he was a North Korean just casually heading towards South's camp.

"Go! I'll get the message out of him." Seonghwa said, pushing the gun harder against Jongho's head.

"No way, you can't do it alone. We're going to die anyways." The man said, but Seonghwa turned to glare at him.

"Are you dumb? Go! Better lose one man than ten. I can handle one Northern bitch easily, I have a gun pointing at him!" Seonghwa hissed through his together gritted teeth.

The soldiers hesitated, but when Seonghwa turned to glare at them again, they started running. The sound of many airplanes was now hearable, and that only was enough to have the hairs on Jongho's neck and arms stand up. It sounded so dangerous.

Jongho hadn't been informed about the bombing done by the Soviet Union. That would've been his right to know, since he was in the forest where it happened. Did his commander really want him dead?

The soldiers ran away, and Seonghwa looked at their backs that got farer and farer away. The planes were very close now, close enough to start bombing, but Jongho couldn't focus on them.

Now he would know if Seonghwa had truly used his trust. If he had truly done all of that just to betray him. But who could blame him? They were enemies. They all valued their own lives here more than anyone else's.

But like something in the back of his head had known, the gun got pulled back from his head and Seonghwa yanked him down, pulling them both to the ground. Jongho wrapped his hands around Seonghwa as the South Korean soldier did the same to him.

Jongho shielded Seonghwa and Seonghwa shielded Jongho, both of them protecting each other from the bombs that were now coming down from the sky. 

It sounded like thousands of whistles everywhere around them. Jongho didn't know if the bombs were dropping near them, far from them, on top of them or just... beside them. The whistling was coming from everywhere, it was impossible to locate them.

Jongho felt Seonghwa's hands squeeze the back of Jongho's uniform until it was crumbled inside his fist. It brought an odd feeling of comfort, just like Seonghwa's breath that tickled Jongho's neck. 

Jongho's head was buried in Seonghwa's neck too, and he squeezed the man harder. If this was his last moment, at least he spent it with Seonghwa.

The first explode came. It was far away from them.  
The second one came. It was still far.  
The third, fourth, fifth and sixth ones were a safe distance away, but the ones from that got a bit too close to Jongho's liking. The airplanes were much noisier now, he knew they were close.

The ground under Jongho and Seonghwa trembled again when the eleventh bomb exploded. Jongho squeezed his eyes closed, mind swimming with different emotions.

The fourteenth bomb was the closest one. It was so close that the ground trembled like in the middle of an earthquake, dirt flying on top of them. Jongho's ears began ringing, and he whimpered. The fifteenth bomb was farer away from them again.

The bombers had missed Jongho and Seonghwa.

Slowly, Jongho opened his eyes. The forest around them was pretty much destroyed now, looking very cruel. 

Seonghwa moved too, and let Jongho go. They sat up, bodies stiff with fear. They sat for a while in complete silence before Seonghwa turned to look at Jongho. He reached for him, and Jongho stayed completely still, staring at the hand that was coming towards him.

Seonghwa brushed off some dirt from Jongho's cheek, and smiled a bit. Jongho reached for his hand, interlocking their fingers for a while.

"We made it again." Seonghwa said quietly, calming down every single nerve inside Jongho. He felt safe again. 

"We made it." Jongho repeated, a small smile rising on his face as well.

Seonghwa stood up and pulled Jongho up too, finally letting go of his hand when Jongho was standing again. He brushed off the dirt on his clothes as well as he could and checked to see if the message was safe. It was.

"You're on your way to North's camp 24, right?" Seonghwa asked, and Jongho didn't even hesitate to nod.

He trusted Seonghwa completely now. There was no questioning that anymore.

"Give me your map." Seonghwa said, and Jongho pulled his map and compass out of his pocket, giving them to Seonghwa.

"I got lost when the American bombers and your soldiers came. I have no idea where I am." Jongho explained.

Seonghwa walked to stand right beside him, and Jongho's heart skipped a beat. They were side to side, shoulders touching.

"Look, we're about here now. This is your camp's location, not completely accurate, but pretty near. Do you think you can get there now?" Seonghwa asked, pointing the locations to Jongho.

"Thank you. I can. Really, just thank you for everything. I would've died today if it wasn't for you again." Jongho said, looking up at Seonghwa, who just smiled, his eyes sparkling again.

"No need for that at all. I don't want you to die. Providing some information to keep you alive is a small price to pay, even if it makes me a betrayer. But I know you're a great guy, even if you're a Northie."

Jongho snorted.  
"You're not bad either, for a Southie."

They laughed for a while, and Jongho enjoyed every single second of it. He hadn't laughed in a long time. It felt so nice, so relaxing and so... warm.

After calming down, Seonghwa reached for his hand again.  
"You should go. Now is the perfect time to get to the camp you need to go, and also get back to frontline 3. There is no other persons in this forest than us, and it will take a while for everything to get awake again." 

"Yeah." Jongho answered dumbly, his eyes on their interlocked hands. "Where are you going?" He continued, looking up.

"Back to my camp at the frontline 3. But no, even before you can say it, don't come sneaking around our camp. That's dangerous." Seonghwa teased, smiling smugly again.

"Oh trust me, you'll see me in less than eight days. I just know it." Jongho teased him back.

Jongho pulled Seonghwa close, and wrapped his hands around the other soldier's body again, hugging him properly now.

"Stay safe." He whispered, chin resting on Seonghwa's shoulder. Seonghwa's hands caressed Jongho's back gently.

"You too. Let's hope we can see each other soon again, but not like this, not in the middle of anything related to battles or death." Seonghwa whispered back.

They swayed for a while before Jongho let go, smiled at Seonghwa and then looked back at his map.

He turned around, and began running again. He had a job to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year guys! 2020 is finally left behind And we can start anew with 2021. I’m so happy, 2020 was a tiring year.
> 
> Anyways, the story is progressing! We’re starting to see more of jongho and seonghwa.
> 
> Thank you for reading and see you next saturday!❤️
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/cloudyjjongie?s=21) and [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/Cloudyjongho)


	4. Take it, take it, take it all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⚠️IMPORTANT!!⚠️
> 
> I have changed my username on both here and twitter! I used to be wonhoesramen here, but now I am cloudyjongho. My twitter used to be ramenofwonho, but now it is cloudyjjongie!

26th of October, 1953

"Excuse me, sir, do you happen to know Park Seonghwa?" Jongho asked a man that sat on a bench in a park. He wasn't sure if the man liked being called sir, he looked pretty young, but Jongho didn't want to disrespect anyone.

The man was quiet for a while.  
"Have you lost him?"

"Yes. I don't know how to find him, I only have this picture, know his name and that he lives here. Or at least lived." Jongho answered. Now that he looked closer, the man was probably no more than 24. Somehow, he looked very familiar, but then again, Jongho's brains were probably lying.

"Do you know that he's... you know, still here?" The man asked, and Jongho swallowed.

The man's sharp eyes watched him carefully, and when Jongho shook his head, the man turned to look at the opposite direction. He had a very visible jawline.

"He was a soldier, wasn't he? In the war. You should go take a look of the list of the dead soldiers. That would give you some kind of peace, if that's what you're looking for." The man continued.

Right. It was probably the best thing to do, but until now, Jongho had been avoiding it. He wasn't sure if he was ready to check if his lover's name was in the list of dead soldiers.

"Thank you. I'm not from here so I don't know where that place is — but I'll definitely go check it soon." Jongho answered. He wasn't ready to go there now.

"I can take you. I have nothing else to do now  
anyways."

Jongho wanted to reject the suggestion, but he didn't find the correct words for it. He knew he needed to do this, but now that the time got closer, he became more scared and sad.

Life really knew how to twist the knife in the wound.

The man stood up and motioned Jongho to follow him. Jongho submitted to his fate — it was now or never. Maybe it would really be better to know if all the walking and asking around he had and was about to do was just all for nothing.

"What is your name? I've never seen you here, and like you said, you're not from here." The man asked.

"Choi Jongho, sir." He answered. Why did he give his real name? He didn't know, but something told him this man was reliable.

"Choi? We are cousins, then. I'm Choi San." The man, San, joked while walking. His name sounded familiar... but Jongho didn't know where had he heard it.

"Nice to meet you." Jongho said politely, despite his heart feeling like it weighed more than thirty pounds.

"Nice to meet you, too. When did you arrive here?"

"Just few days ago, sir." Jongho answered 

"Please, don't call me sir. I'm only 21, and I bet you're not much younger than me." San said, a small smile on his face.

"Sorry. I wanted to be polite since I go around disturbing people." Jongho muttered.

"All good, all good. That's very kind of you. Calling me sir just makes me feel old, that's all."

They walked slowly, the silence akward between them. The air felt so tensed that Jongho could've cut it with scissors, and he knew that San felt it too.

"So, where do you live around here?" San asked, and Jongho hesitated a bit. Could he tell the truth? Then again, San probably hadn't detected his accent.

"I stay in a motel." Jongho answered.

"Oh really? Is the owner Kim Hongjoong, by any chance?" 

Jongho turned to look at San.  
"Yeah. Do you know him?"

"He's a good friend of mine." San said, a small smile rising on his cheeks.  
"If you don't mind, could I walk back to the motel with you if you're going back after this? I would like to talk with him," San asked carefully.

Jongho nodded. Hongjoong was a nice human, Jongho genuinely liked him, so any friend of his was probably trustable too.  
"Of course. Is the office far from here?" Jongho answered.

"A little bit. See that house? A few blocks straight and just a bit to left, but not too much." San pointed the house to Jongho, who nodded.

They fell silent again and walked, Jongho looking around and taking in the nice city of Jinju. It truly was a beautiful place to live at. Maybe if he found Seonghwa some day they could live here for awhile and then move to Seoul when it was reconstructed again.

The only thing that would maybe crush Jongho's dreams was definitely if Seonghwa had forgotten him, or just... treated their relationship in the war as an one time thing.

But then again, Seonghwa had always looked at Jongho like he was his everything. Like Jongho was the most important thing on this earth, worth spoiling important war secrets. Seonghwa's eyes had always twinkled and he had teared up always when they had met up. After the kiss... the kiss. The kiss Jongho would remember forever.

Hope sparkled in Jongho's heart again, after doubting Seonghwa. Why had he even done that? Seonghwa had promised to meet Jongho again. They had both promised it on that dark night they saw each other for the last time.

The pictures in their lockets and the tender kiss had sealed the promise, making it impossible to break.

Jongho wondered if Seonghwa stared at Jongho's picture like he stared at Seonghwa's. If he held it in his warm and soft but still slightly calloused hand and caressed the cold metal, imagining it to be Jongho. Because Jongho did that. 

He remembers all the times he kissed the locket to give him good luck. Instead, he would've liked to kiss Seonghwa to have good luck, but it was what he had. He got through the last fights and battles purely because of the picture and his love towards Seonghwa, that had actually hit him very fast and hard. 

As they walked, Jongho took a glance of the picture. Seonghwa looked so handsome in it.

His long bangs decorated the right side of his forehead, curling beautifully from the middle section. His face looked emotionless and dangerous, and it made Jongho's heart beat a bit faster again.

"I haven't been able to visit Hongjoong in along while. I came back from the war few months ago but only now came back to Jinju, so I miss him a lot." San spoke up, making Jongho freeze.

"You- you were in the war?" He asked, heartbeat quickening up now not because of Seonghwa. San could never find out Jongho was from North Korea, otherwise he would be sent to some prison immediately.

"Yeah? Were you too?" San asked, stopping too. His brows were furrowed a bit.

"No. What frontline did you protect?" Jongho lied, brains panicking.

"Frontline 3. Why?" San continued questioning. He frowned, those sharp eyes of his tightly on Jongho. 

Everything in Jongho collapsed at the same time. It was a total system shutdown, making Jongho vulnerable and anxious again.

He had fought against this man. And Seonghwa had probably known this man.

But why hadn't he told Jongho he knew Seonghwa?

"T-three?" Jongho asked, not wanting to stutter, but somehow it got out.

"Yeah." San answered. He didn't look kind and welcoming anymore, but rather dangerous. His face had lost the small smile.

"How come you don't know Seonghwa then?" Jongho blurted out. It might expose Jongho too, but only if San was smart enough.

San walked closer to him, every step confident. But it looked like San was a predator lurking around to see his prey, who was Jongho. 

"Because I have to know why a Northie knows him and wants to meet him." San spat out, venom clear in his voice, and pushed Jongho's paralyzed body against the wall of a house.

Fuck. 

"I'm not from North!" Jongho insisted, thick fear clouding his brains.

"Oh, shut up, you little bitch. I know a Northie when I hear one. I fought against your kind for three years, I know that accent when I hear it." San hissed, his hand on Jongho's throat.

"Did you really think I would lead you to see if he's dead or not? Not in this world." San continued. Now that Jongho looked around, they were in an empty alley.

All words Jongho had prepared to use to argue died down. A part of him knew he could fight San off and run, but he didn't want to attract attention on him. People talked, the rumor of him would spread like a wildfire.

"Now, who are you, and why the hell do you know Seonghwa?" San snarled. His eyes were dark and looked at Jongho liked he was the shittiest shit on this earth.

"I'm his friend!" Jongho exclaimed, trashing a bit when the grip on his throat tightened.

He could push San off. He could fight him, but he was immobilized with pure fear and panick. If San went around yelling about him, Jongho would be busted in less than two days.

"You're not his friend. You're not from South, how could you be his friend? You're a scumbag from North. You're here to kill him, and I won't let you do that. I'm going to kill you right here with my own hands, because you know what? That's called loyalty. You dogs probably never heard of it."

Every single word stabbed Jongho. He was desperate, not just for living after this but for finding Seonghwa. 

Jongho teared up. 

"I beat myself up for killing people for a long while, but recently, I forgave myself. Because it was war. I needed to do that to survive. But you? I know you're a peace of shit. You play nice and kind, but you're a psychopath on the inside, who wants to kill Seonghwa." San started, squeezing more and cutting off Jongho's breathing.

"But even if you're a psychopath, you're still weak. I'm choking you but you're not even fighting. I mean, I wouldn't, if I was you. I can kick your ass in three seconds." He continued.

Jongho started trashing. He couldn't breathe anymore.

"I'm not here to kill him! I'm not!" He screamed, wasting the last bits of air in his lungs.

"Oh yeah? What the fuck are you here for then? And how do you even know him?"

Tears streamed down Jongho's face. All he had felt since the war were something negative, and it didn't seem to stop. 

He didn't know what to answer anymore. He had run out of excuses, and there was only one thing that wanted to come out of his mouth. So it came.

"I LOVED HIM! I STILL DO! I HAVE HIS PICTURE IN MY LOCKET!" Jongho screamed as loud as he could despite the lack of air. The whole area echoed with his words that were full of pain, of pure agony.

San's face changed. The angry snarl got replaced with confusion, but also softness, which shocked Jongho. His hand let go of Jongho's throat, and Jongho barely kept himself up when he doubled over, wheezing for air.

"You're- you're Haribo?" San asked, his voice very, very soft.

Something warm flared in Jongho's stomach.  
"He- he told you?" Jongho asked back, confused.

"He told me before the last battle. He told me that if he died, I would look for you and give you his letter. But if he didn't, I would burn it." San explained, now looking at Jongho with adoration.

"Is he alive?" Jongho whispered, heart aching painfully, making his chest feel tight.

San bit his lip, making the small sparks of hope die inside Jongho.

Was he really dead?

The tears that had stopped now came back, moistening his eyes. Jongho felt dizzy. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall again, afraid he'd faint any moment from now.

"He's alive."

Jongho looked up again so fast that his neck hurt. The agony that had taken over him lessened, making excitement rise.

"He is?" Jongho asked.

"Yes. I burned the letter, because he is alive and breathing. But I don't know where he is." San answered.

Jongho's legs gave out. He crashed down, but it didn't matter. 

Seonghwa was alive. He was alive, and Jongho could find him. Jongho could find him. He could find him, god, he could fucking find him.

Jongho closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, a wide smile taking over his face as he squeezed the locket in his hand.

Seonghwa was alive.

27th of June, 1953

Jongho was officially done with the war.

The armistice and peace treaty negotiations were still going on, even after three months, but it seemed like there was no end for the war. They would just need to fight until there was only one man standing, which would probably take a while, considering just how much people they had involved.

The United Nations would have something to say about the war — he knew they had. About the brutal things North Korea had done to their hostages, not depending on their country.

Heck, it even felt like Jongho was a hostage too. Now that he had heard what kind of thoughts the South Korea had about politics, he didn't really want to stay on this side anymore. He didn't feel any kind of want to protect his home country if there was another country that would take care of him better. Here he was just used as a bait that didn't really matter unless he failed to get info or deliver a message.

But he couldn't switch sides, not anymore. Not in the future either.

First Jongho had thought about continuing the war only he himself in his mind. He thought of playing everything to his own pocket, keeping just himself safe, but that was so selfish that he couldn't do it. Military and soldiers worked if they were together. It was all a team game.

Jongho's head echoed with the word fire. He had heard it so many times today while running and throwing himself down, scrambling up and repeating the exact same motion while wheezing like a dog. His stamina had probably gotten so much better here.

"Take the night off, soldier Choi. You did well today."

They had gotten a new commander. The annoying one died, Jongho had seen his body, so now a man whose name he did not remember led them. He was much kinder and didn't think of Jongho as just a dumb soldier that could go running around like a headless chicken.

"Thank you, Commander. I will."

He wouldn't rest. He would go look for Seonghwa because he needed him. Jongho felt like going crazy, he hadn't seen Seonghwa for a week.

The said man had lived in Jongho's head, rent free. Jongho had never really liked anyone — but this was the feeling. He knew it was.

Jongho smiled when he thought about Seonghwa, he blushed when he thought about all the sweet things the older had done and he couldn't help but feel butterflies in his stomach when thinking about Seonghwa's charming and blinding smile.

So Jongho took a small bag of candy he had brought from home and hid it inside his pocket while walking out. He started making his way towards the camps of South.

The bag was his last one, but he didn't mind sharing it with Seonghwa if he found him. He knew Seonghwa was tired too, even if he had proper food, but fighting took so much energy that at least Jongho felt like eating all the time. If he was home he would've eaten his mom's delicious foods until he was all nice and chubby.

Speaking of which, Jongho hadn't gotten an answer from his parents anymore. He had wondered if his letter had been dropped somewhere accidentally, so he had sent three other letters, yet there still was no answer.

It made Jongho's stomach twist uncomfortably.

He would've probably already freaked out if it wasn't for the traumas the war had given him. He was only 19, yet he had seen horrible things that would've made anyone lose sleep and puke.

First Jongho had been all innocent wide eyes and healthy mind — now he was just a monster killing others. The traumas and things he had seen hadn't affected him that much yet, probably because he was surrounded by the things all the time and he didn't have time or energy to think about them.

He wondered if he could ever recover from the war. Cities could be rebuilt, guns could be made again — but the people he had killed and the things he had seen could never get wiped out of his memory. 

To be honest, Jongho didn't know if he wanted to go home at all. If he went back and saw his parents dead inside their house he wouldn't probably be able to continue normally anymore.

Jongho began to feel his chest tightening up again so he tried to brush the thoughts away — his parents were probably just fine, but the mailman had fucked up. That must be the reason for the silence. Yeah.

Jongho was now deep into the enemy territory. He saw the familiar rocks he had learnt to recognize with how much he had walked this path.

But now that he was closer again, Jongho began feeling very dumb.

How could he find Seonghwa like this? He couldn't just walk there and ask for him. And he didn't know if Seonghwa was alive anymore. What was he thinking?

But he was already too close to turn back. He might as well take a closer look and possibly attract Seonghwa's attention somehow.

He was close to the camp again, so close that he had to walk very slowly and carefully. He couldn't fuck up now.

But he stepped on a twig, like a dumb cliché, and froze right there.

"Is someone there? Password!" A man yelled.

Fuck. 

Jongho was fucked.

He stayed absolutely silent, biting his lip to keep his whimpers in. His heart was ready to jump out of his chest any moment now.

"PASSWORD OR I SHOOT!" The same man yelled, voice taking an aggressive, raspy side.

Jongho felt like crying. He regretted this so much, he could be laying in his bed comfortably now, but instead he was being threatened with a gun.

"What's up, San?" A second voice joined. 

It was Seonghwa. He could've recognized that voice any time.

"Someone's in there. I know it, I heard a twig snap." The man, San, growled.

"Take it easy. I'll check. The commander wanted me to go spy on the North so I'll be going there anyways." Seonghwa answered.

Seonghwa was doing what? A small smile tugged on Jongho's lips. They could meet.

"You sure? Do you want me to come with you?" San asked Seonghwa.

"No need. I have a gun, you keep the watch here. See you later, San. I'll come back after a few hours." Seonghwa said with a low, kind voice.

"Be safe."

"You too."

Jongho heard steps coming closer and held his breath. It was probably just Seonghwa — but he could never be too sure.

But he was lucky, and did indeed see Seonghwa, who walked into the forest. 

Seonghwa smiled at him, but motioned for him to keep his mouth shut.

"No one's here, San. No need to worry." He yelled back, and took the final steps to Jongho.

Seonghwa held out his hand, which Jongho grabbed happily. He blushed a bit at the feeling of holding Seonghwa's hands. 

Their fingers interlocked.

Seonghwa counted from three to one with his other hand, and they took off, running.

Jongho squeezed Seongwa's hand harder, a wide smile rising on his lips as they ran together. Jongho didn't know where they were going, but it seemed like Seonghwa had a destination in his mind.

Jongho did his all to stay up while running in the slightly dark forest. Seonghwa's hold of his hand was strong and guiding, also assuring that hey, everything was okay.

And in that moment, everything really was.

Jongho forgot everything. He forgot all of the disgusting and disturbing things he had seen. He forgot that he was in a war, he forgot they were enemies. 

All that mattered was him and Seonghwa, running through the forest together while holding hands.

Jongho and Seonghwa both laughed, enjoying their run a lot. Seonghwa pulled him closer and made a turn to left, running faster. Jongho had to run almost as fast as he could so he stayed in the pace.

Jongho's heart beat so fast that it was about to jump out of his chest. Not just because of running, but because of Seonghwa.

Seonghwa seemed to reach their destination, because he slowed down. Jongho did too, but Seonghwa had different plans.

Their hands were still laced together, so Seonghwa was able to control Jongho a bit. He pulled Jongho, making him stumble forward before being pushed against a tree.

It was the third time Jongho had been held against a tree by Seonghwa, but this time he wasn't being threatened or manhandled aggressively. Seonghwa trapped Jongho against the tree by pushing their bodies almost together.

Jongho looked up, and met Seonghwa's eyes.

Seonghwa's eyes reflected the stars in the sky. They were not only beautiful like that, but they were also wet with tears. 

Seonghwa was touched.

A wide smile decorated Jongho's mouth, pulling his lips hard, so hard that his cheeks hurt. Seonghwa wasn't any better. His eyes twinkled and chest rose and fell with the small heaves for air, just like Jongho's.

They were so close, and so happy.

Jongho linked his hands behind Seonghwa's neck, pulling him closer. Seonghwa stepped closer too — so close, that their faces were only few centimeters away from each other.

Jongho inhaled, and kissed Seonghwa.

He brought their lips together gently, not hurriedly or lewdly. He just connected them, feeling Seonghwa's soft cotton lips for a while before pulling back and doing it again.

He pecked Seonghwa's lips, and was about to leave it to that, but Seonghwa didn't want to. He brought their lips together again, pressing Jongho's head against the tree so that he couldn't move it.

Jongho closed his eyes when Seonghwa began moving his lips against Jongho's. He bathed in the feeling — enjoying every single second of it.

The way Seonghwa's soft lips closed around his own almost made him dizzy. He began answering back and giving Seonghwa soft, soft touches too, making sure he wasn't the only one receiving the tender kisses.

Seonghwa's left hand found the tree beside Jongho's head — atleast that was what he thought Seonghwa had done, because his waist was grabbed by another hand.

Jongho reveled in the kiss. It was so soft and tender, so full of emotions and feelings. There was nothing lewd, hurried or lustful in it other than just the emotions the two of them felt.

It was absolutely perfect.

When Seonghwa pulled his head back, Jongho was quick to pull Seonghwa against him. He placed his chin on Seonghwa's shoulder and drowned in the hug Seonghwa gave him, his strong and safe arms wrapping around Jongho's body. Jongho squeezed Seonghwa harder.

"I'm so happy I found you," Seonghwa whispered to Jongho's ear, his deep voice sounding soft and fond.

"I'm so happy I have you." Jongho answered, his own eyes watering up too. 

He felt loved. He felt cherished. He felt complete.

He wasn't scared. He wasn't wronged, he wasn't hurt.

"Please don't leave me." Jongho whispered.

"I am never going to leave you, Jongho." Seonghwa whispered back.

He wasn't alone. For the first time ever, he wasn't alone.

In that moment, Jongho was truly the happiest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo again! Happy saturday!
> 
> Here we are, getting closer to the end. Only two chapters left, omg!
> 
> I finished the next jonghwa on thursday. I was able to write it so quickly! I’m very happy I have the next one ready already. It’s... well, you’ll get to know the concept in two weeks when this one ends. But it’s something I have never written, something that is super popular. Okay, I’m done teasing y’all.
> 
> If some of you didn’t read the beginning notes, I changed my username. I used to be wonhoesramen, but nowadays I’m going with cloudyjongho!
> 
> That’s it, I’m done talking. Feel free to give kudos and comment, and we see next saturday! Love you!❤️
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/cloudyjjongie?s=21) and [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/Cloudyjongho)


	5. To give me all your love is all I ever ask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for an emotional ride

30th of October, 1953

Jongho sat in a bar. He was holding a mug of beer in his hand, swirling the yellow-ish liquid around the glass and staring at the wall in front of him. It was a very typical night, at least to some people. 

The bar played some kind of american music with trumpets and simple piano riffs — the lyrics going well past his ears. He had learned a word or two from some US soldiers that had shouted aggressively at him back then in the war, but he doubted they were anything good.

He sipped the beer and set it back to the table, grimacing at the taste. He didn't like beer, but everything else was so expensive that he had no other options. 

Ever since going back to the motel with San, he had just basked in the feeling he got from knowing Seonghwa was alive. San had become nice too, and he liked to remind Jongho of the fact that Seonghwa had called him a gummybear before the last battle.

So far, Jongho had managed to stay alive.

Hongjoong, Mingi, San and even Wooyoung, who now had the courage to come near Jongho, treated him with respect like every other human. So far, Jongho liked his life in South Korea. Especially now that he knew Seonghwa was alive.

But just how hard would finding Seonghwa be? Was he in Jinju or had he left to Busan? Or North Korea? Jongho hoped he was still in Jinju. So Jongho could find him here. 

He didn't want to go back to North Korea anymore. Even if he had been born there, even if he had fought for that country, he truly didn't want to go back. He wanted to be with Seonghwa here, live together and stay together. 

Jongho closed his eyes and leaned against the couch better. His right hand grabbed the locket without as a reflex, and he opened his eyes to stare at it.

No one would've known falling in love in a war was possible, especially with an enemy. Jongho and Seonghwa had had all the odds against them, but yet there they were, both alive and still in love.

Jongho especially had never imagined falling like that. He had never really thought about the gender he liked — he just went with the flow. 

Jongho wasn't a person who showed a lot of emotions. At least he hadn't been. But with Seonghwa he had really let himself be free, be what he was, let the emotions out. If a small smile had been an usual answer from Jongho to something happy, with Seonghwa he had been all wide smiles and sparkling eyes. Heck, he had even cried for and with Seonghwa. 

Neither was Jongho a person that had ever wanted skinship or touches. His parents and old friends knew to not to hug or touch Jongho too fast or too much. It made him uncomfortable, it made him anxious and self-conscious. But with Seonghwa, he craved for it. He craved for the small touches, affectionate kisses and long hugs that made his legs jelly. He wanted the touches, he needed them; and that confused Jongho. 

Right now, Jongho was lonelier than ever. He did have the people back in the motel, but could he really call them friends? He was in an other country, where everyone else spoke this weird and strong accent, leaving Jongho alone with his own. 

So Jongho kept it down. He kept his head down, words quiet and mumbled. He didn't show any emotions, he didn't smile widely, because those, those attracted attention.

No one wanted to befriend the quiet and shy new guy. And Jongho wanted exactly that. Because he didn't care if people hated him. He didn't care if he was all alone, he truly didn't care at all. All he wanted to have was Seonghwa there, beside him, hugging Jongho and touching him like he was the most perfect humanbeing on the planet. 

And fuck did Jongho feel bad. He felt so, so bad. So lonely. So tired, absolutely exhausted, and done. Just done. 

He knew he was losing it all again, he was going back to the mindset he had fought so hard to get out from. The hurtful mindset that didn't remember anything else than the terrors from the war. The mindset that had kept him as the prisoner of his own mind and bed. Heck, Jongho hadn't been able to get himself up from the bed to eat or drink, to even shower. The motel in North Korea had become Jongho's prison for three months — all the way until he had fought his way out of his own mind.

But it was all happening again, and Jongho felt himself start so shake as the fear took over. 

He couldn't control his mind anymore. The bar faded away from his eyes, darkness taking over. Jongho tried to stop it. He tried to hold himself back, but even if he tried so, so hard, he lost.

All Jongho saw was forest, fire and death. He heard the loud whistling again as if a bomb was coming towards him — only him — and Jongho doubled over.

Fire grew everywhere around him, it licked the ground and came closer. Someone shot. The bullet scratched Jongho's neck, pain flaring up. The fire made Jongho hot. The bomb came closer. A dead soldier fell in front of him, his mutilated body leaking blood. He missed a limb or two.

Jongho couldn't breathe. His own mind had trapped him in, his head span, he was losing it, he was losing it, he was losing it.

Someone shot again. It hit Jongho's leg. He fell down to the ground. The pain was blinding, it was deafening. It was killing him.

The dead soldier crawled up, his limbless body twisting and spasming, but he got up. Jongho felt tears in his eyes, he couldn't get out, he couldn't move. He was trapped in that nightmare again.

The soldier came closer, reaching out with his hand that bled. Jongho saw the bone, and he felt like throwing up.

Pressure squeezed Jongho's chest, making it hard to breathe. The bomb came closer, it whistled and whistled and whistled.

Jongho grasped his head. He protected his head and screamed. He needed help, he was stuck.

Tears escaped Jongho's eyes, and they ran down his cheeks freely. He couldn't breathe. He was going to faint, his lungs burned and it felt like his whole body was on fire.

But just as Jongho thought he would die, a familiar, low voice rang in his head.

"It's okay. We're going to be okay. Don't be scared, Jongho. I won't ever leave you."

And like that, Seonghwa pulled him back again. He had done that before too. Seonghwa's words in Jongho's head had pulled him out and made him get up and eat, clean and leave. And he had done it again.

But when Jongho straightened up, he was back in the bar, and Seonghwa was nowhere around him. Jongho was alone in the bar, the locket tightly in his fist.

He missed Seonghwa so much.

Jongho's fingers trembled as he caressed the cold and shiny locket, tears escaping his eyes. He was crying again. He was showing emotions again.

Jongho stood up, his whole body shaking, but he fought and ran out of the bar, leaving his unfinished beer behind. 

He ran, clutching the locket tightly in his hand and against his chest. The streets were dark. He was alone, but Jongho didn't care.

The silent crying turned into full on sobs that wrecked his whole body. Jongho's legs trembled hard, he needed to get home, but he wasn't sure if he could. 

Jongho screamed. He screamed, his vocal chords turning raw and aching. He screamed more, he crumbled down, and cried. His body hit the ground, wheezing for air before letting out a blood-curdling scream again.

Jongho couldn't see. Tears had blurred his eyesight completely. He buried his hands in his own hair, yanking it in frustration and pure pain.

He screamed again. Jongho screamed it all out, the pain burning inside him. Then the scream died down, and the crying took over.

Jongho's voice was hoarse and raspy, so he sounded like whining puppy when he cried. The sobs and cries came out as pitiful whines.

Someone touched his shoulder carefully, which only made Jongho scream again and jerk his body back. 

"NO!"

"It's okay. It's just me, San. I'll take you back to the motel."

San. Was it San?

But frankly, Jongho didn't care enough to look and confirm. He just continued crying on the ground and let San pick him up like he was a princess. 

San walked quickly but steadily, not shaking Jongho too much. Jongho just squeezed San and hoped for the best, big fat tears running down while he gasped for air. It felt like his lungs were filled with something that stopped Jongho from breathing.

"Everything's fine, Jongho. We're almost there. Focus on the locket, okay? Look at Seonghwa. He's right there. He's not dead, he's in your locket and your heart."

Jongho pried his right eye open, the tears still streaming down, but he opened the locket that was still in his fist. His hands trembled like leaves in wind, but when he opened the locket and met eyes with Seonghwa's warm and calming ones, he could breathe again. His lungs opened, and he stared at the picture like he was hypnotized. He could breathe.

"That's right. He's there, your dragon is there. He hasn't gone anywhere." San continued, now stepping inside the motel.

A concerned-looking Hongjoong ran to them immediately, and San put Jongho down to the couch.

Jongho curled up, the locket in his hand. Hongjoong sat next to him so Jongho could lean against him, before the older male pulled Jongho so his head rested on Hongjoong's lap. 

Hongjoong's fingers ran through Jongho's hair, petting and caressing it. 

Jongho hated skinship and touching if it wasn't from Seonghwa. But maybe, just maybe this time he would let it pass. Because he was so tired. He was so, so tired, that he just wanted to sleep.

Jongho's eyes closed, and his breathing evened out. He was glad the sleep came to collect him. He just wished he could see something else than war.

12th of July, 1953

Jongho stood still, clutching his gun with his both hands. He listened very, very closely. 

Jongho's guarding duty was tonight. He stood a good few meters away from the outline of their camp and kept his eyes open for intruders.

Personally, Jongho liked this so much more than fighting in an battle. Even though it was very stressful to stand alone in the almost pitch black night while knowing that their enemy was only a few kilometers away and could attack any moment, he still preferred this.

It gave Jongho time to think and to go through anything he had in his head. And he had a lot.

Recently, after the kiss, he and Seonghwa had seen a few more times. They were always in a hurry and constant fear of being caught, but they still did it. They had mutual feelings that had grown to be much more than just a normal crush.

Jongho smiled when he thought of the last time they had seen. Seonghwa had almost cried again while holding Jongho's face between his hands and gently nuzzling their noses together. It was very intimate, but so tender.

Honestly, it was a miracle how Seonghwa and Jongho always managed to find each other. Three out of four times it had been Jongho who had grasped the momentum he had gotten and went to look for Seonghwa, but the South Korean soldier had also visited the forests of Jongho's camp. And they hadn't gotten caught, which was all that mattered.

But now that it was already July, and the armistice contract was getting closer and closer second by second. The United Nations were taking a part in it — and Jongho hoped they could stop this war quickly. If he had stayed alive until now, he would like to stay alive until the end as well. And past that. He wanted to be with Seonghwa, which meant that one of them needed to move. And Jongho was very willing to so that, especially if the place he called his home was empty of living people.

Jongho shuddered at the thought and forced it away. He couldn't think about it now. It would just cause him another one of those seizure-like attacks that made him franctic. He didn't know what they were but he hated them. And right now, the lives of dozens of soldiers laid in Jongho's hands. He needed to be sharp.

He shivered when the slightly cold wind blew again, going through his clothes and straight to his skin. He needed more clothes if the wind got any stronger from this.

Jongho was about to put his gun down for a moment to take a sip of his water when his ears picked up noise from the forest.

Jongho froze. He began listening even better, and he lifted the gun up, staring into the forest and its shadows. There was someone. He knew it, he heard the steps easily now.

He got ready to yell the intruder to stop and to give him the password before he could shoot, but when a familiar human appeared at the edge of the forest, the words died down on Jongho's tongue. 

What was Seonghwa doing there now? Jongho had told him he was on duty tonight. Neither of them had ever come this close to the camp. It was too dangerous, so why did Seonghwa do it?

Seonghwa motioned Jongho to follow him to the forest before he disappeared back into the shadows. Jongho swallowed, and looked around.

"Taeun! Can you cover for me for a second? I really need to go pee," Jongho yelled at the familiar soldier he saw walking in front of the camp.

"For sure. Give me your gun." Taeun answered him, and walked to Jongho, who gave him the gun.

"Thank you. I'll be back in ten minutes." Jongho said, hoping that Taeun didn't mind him being away that long.

"Have fun jacking off," Taeun snickered, and Jongho just snorted back at him, happily taking the alibi Taeun had given him.

Jongho's heart beat faster as he got closer to the forest. It was so dark that he couldn't really see anything in there, so he just tried to follow wherever Seonghwa could've gone.

He walked carefully, not making much noise even if he was in his territory. 

Seonghwa was leaning against a tree, but straightened up when Jongho neared him.

"Seonghwa? What's going on?" Jongho asked gently when the older man pulled him into a tight hug. He had seen some tears in Seonghwa's eyes.

Seonghwa didn't answer immediately. He just squeezed Jongho, making him worry.

"Seonghwa?" Jongho asked again.

Seonghwa pulled back, and he really was crying. A single tear fell down his cheek.

"We can't see anymore, Jongho." Seonghwa whispered.

Jongho's heart stopped. He felt all color drain from his face and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. This, what they had, was what had been keeping Jongho up in the middle of death.

No. 

"Why?" Jongho asked, his voice so, so weak, that it could've broken any moment.

"It's getting too dangerous. I could barely leave, I almost got caught. They have some huge plans I don't know about, and I'm going to be sent to some other frontline tomorrow. We simply can't risk this anymore. I don't want you to get hurt, and I know you don't want me to get hurt either." Seonghwa explained, voice trembling and more tears running down. His hands searched for Jongho's hands and he took them in his.

Jongho felt his eyes water up too. Seonghwa was his only source of energy here. He wouldn't be able to continue if he didn't have Seonghwa. He felt safe and complete only with him.

But Jongho understood him. He really did.

"I... I can't, Seonghwa, not without... without you." Jongho choked out, his insides twisting.

Seonghwa closed his eyes, another crystal clear tear falling down his cheek.

"It's too dangerous. The fight is getting more intense and this cannot go on." 

It hit him more. He wouldn't be able to be with Seonghwa anymore. Not now, not ever. He would need to be alone again.

Jongho's face crumbled and the first tears fell down. He forced back the sob so it only came out as a choked wheeze that made his whole body spasm.

Seonghwa pulled him into a tight hug, to which Jongho answered, wrapping his arms around Seonghwa and pressing his face against the rough material of Seonghwa's uniform.

It felt like his life was being crushed again. After finally finding peace in the middle of a war, he was being ripped in half, like someone was tearing his organs out, one by one. 

Did this mean the end to them? Jongho couldn't find the words to ask it out loud. He heard Seonghwa hiccup, like he was desperately trying to keep the sobs in, and Jongho squeezed him harder. The scent he had learned to love so much was in his nose again, and really, Jongho didn't want to let go. 

"Seonghwa, I can't. I just can't. I can't do this anymore, not if I'm all alone again. I can't." Jongho cried out, his words coming out muffled because of the clothing pressed against his mouth.

The sadness grated him. It peeled off skin layer by layer, the delicate flesh under it being ripped open as well.

"I know." Was all Seonghwa said before he sobbed. It sounded so, so painful, that Jongho actually felt like he was dying for a moment.

"I wish there was a way... for us to be together. I wish it so much. I love you, Jongho. I love you, I actually love you so much that being away from you kills me." Seonghwa continued.

Jongho's brows furrowed as yet another attack of sobs wrecked through him, making him shake and breathe harder. 

Seonghwa loved him. He had said it now, he loved Jongho.

They could've had it all. They could've had the skies, the stars, the universe, the galaxies. They could've had it, but one of them was born in the wrong country.

"I love you too. God, I love you so much." Jongho answered, pulling away to look at Seonghwa.

Seonghwa tried to smile. He tried to, but the tensed muscles on his face forced it to die down. But his eyes sparkled. His eyes sparkled so prettily like they always did, showing Jongho the entire world. 

"Do you have your soldier ID card with you?" Seonghwa asked softly, wiping away the tears on Jongho's cheeks.

Jongho nodded, refusing to take his eyes off Seonghwa. He would stare at him until they had to split up.

"Okay. Give it to me."

Jongho pulled it from his pocket, a bit confused, but gave it anyways.

He watched as Seonghwa tore the corner of the paper, circling around Jongho's ID picture. He tore Jongho's picture off, ruining the ID card, but Jongho didn't give a fuck. He knew where this was going, and so did his tears.

Jongho watched as Seonghwa pulled a locket from his pocket and opened it, carefully putting Jongho's picture inside it. He closed the locket and opened it again to look at it.

Seonghwa smiled, and pulled out another locket from his pocket. He held it up, in his hand and pulled Jongho closer again.

"This has my picture in it. Keep it safe, and look at it when you need strength. I will keep yours." Seonghwa instructed, his voice so soft and fond that Jongho felt his eyes moisten up again.

He took the locket with trembling hands and opened it — it did indeed have Seonghwa's picture. Jongho closed it quickly and pressed it against his chest, moistened eyes looking up at Seonghwa again.

Seonghwa pulled him into a quick but very emotional kiss. Jongho knew Seonghwa had began to cry again, he felt the tears on his lips. They might've been his too.

When Jongho was pressed against Seonghwa for yet another hug, he knew it was the last one.

"I promise you, Jongho. We're going to find eachother. I know it. I will look for you for as long as it takes, no matter if I need to do that until I'm 90. I'm never leaving you behind."

"I promise you too. I will never give up. I love you, Seonghwa, always remember it." Jongho whispered, a single tear falling down his face again. 

Seonghwa smiled and pressed his nose against Jongho's, gently caressing them together.

"I love you too, my little gummybear. Let's see soon, love."

And that was when Seonghwa's warmth left Jongho for the last time. He watched as Seonghwa's back got farer and farer away, his heart wanting to burst free.

Jongho's legs gave up, and so did anything he had tried to control his emotions with, and he crumbled down, the most powerful cries wrecking his body. He let them all out, he let all of the ugly and pitiful whines and sobs out.

He knew someone could hear him, but no one could know what was going on. So, he was safe. Partly.

But still, the dragger piercing through his heart hurt. It hurt so, so much. 

It was enough to have Jongho crying so hard that he might've passed out soon if it wasn't for Taeun who came to look for him.

And from that moment on, Jongho was numb. The only thing that kept his heart working was the locket resting against his chest.

And the thought that maybe, just maybe he and Seonghwa could be together one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> First, I’m sorry. This chapter was quite painful, but it was necessary. 
> 
> We have only one chapter left, the finale, and that is next saturday! I can’t believe it. Once again, we’re almost in the end. Wow. My 8th jonghwa is almost done. Good thing the 9th is already done, right?
> 
> This wast the most painful moment in Seonghwa’s and Jongho’s lives, and we have reached the climax! But, we’ll see how things open up next week.
> 
> God, Jongho was so broken in this chapter that it hurts. 
> 
> Anyways! Thank you so much for reading again! It means the world to me.❤️
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/cloudyjjongie?s=21) and [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/Cloudyjongho)


	6. Yes, I would die for ya, baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finale.

4th of November, 1953

Jongho couldn't sleep. 

No matter how hard he tried to calm himself down and press his eyes closed, he just couldn't. It felt as if there was an invisible wall between him and his brains that were working overtime and not letting him sleep.

For a moment, he considered sitting up and walking downstairs to stay up with Mingi, who was the one responsible for the motel tonight. But getting up needed energy, and he didn't have enough of that to even sit up.

For the last few days, he had been walking around Jinju like a crazy. He had been asking around about Seonghwa, letting the now slightly colder air bite his cheeks until they were red like apples.

But yet, he hadn't seen even one glimpse of Seonghwa. No one seemed to know him. Even San had gone out of his way to help Jongho find Seonghwa. San was still helping the military with whatever they needed help with, like searching for humans in buildings that had crashed down. Today the said man had had to leave to Seoul, but he had promised Jongho to be back in two weeks.

Two weeks was a long time. San seemed to pity Jongho so much that he felt like it was his responsibility to keep Jongho sane, but then again, Jongho did also have the three owners of the motel with him.

Jongho rolled to his left side on his bed. Why was it so hard to just sleep? 

He closed his eyes again, and breathed in and out deeply, relaxing every single muscle in his body. He was determined to sleep.

There wasn't a lot in the world what Jongho wished for. He just wanted to find Seonghwa, and sleep well after that. It was guaranteed, he just knew it was. 

For a second, Jongho felt like he was actually falling asleep. But then, his body jolted and something — fire, probably — flashed in front of his eyes, waking him up again.

And he realised it. He couldn't fall asleep, because he was afraid of it. He feared falling asleep because of the constant nightmares that felt way too intimate to actually be only dreams. 

Of course he wouldn't fall asleep if the deepest part of his brains didn't want to. So Jongho gathered the last bits of his energy and sat up, planting his back against the slightly cold wall and resting his head against it.

Everything was better in South. He had friends, even if he hadn't come here to get them. He had food, and Hongjoong, even if Jongho had money, insisted on feeding him for free. Jongho had his family's money with him — it was all his parents and he had had. Right now he wasn't capable of working. He was still a North Korean citizen, and he wouldn't be able to get a Southern citizenship on his own. He needed someone that knew how things worked here with him. And doing that with Seonghwa would be the best thing ever.

Second, he couldn't even dream of working as a person building houses and reconstructing cities. He needed to stay in Jinju to find Seonghwa. And he couldn't stand even a bang of iron without going straight into a weird attack of anxiety and panick. So he couldn't really do anything else but look for Seonghwa and help Mingi, Wooyoung and Hongjoong with the motel. That's how he paid for the food. The rent wasn't too much, it didn't eat a big slice of his money, so currently he was fine. He would just need some time to recover. And of course Seonghwa.

Jongho closed his eyes and sighed. He longed for Seonghwa so much — so much that it almost killed him. The bedsheets seemed to devour him every night, because he knew he needed to sleep next to someone. He needed someone right next to him, like Seonghwa had been with him a few months back. Those moments they had spent together had been the happiest moments of Jongho's life, even if they had been short.

Despite knowing Seonghwa was alive, Jongho still feared. What if Seonghwa had left to North to look for Jongho? He could've been killed there. And Jongho would never know. The North would never inform South of that. 

What if he had left Jinju to go to Busan? What if he was somewhere else? Jongho walked all day around the city looking for him. But there were zero traces, zero hints of anything that could've told Jongho about Seonghwa. San didn't know more either. All he knew was that Seonghwa had survived the war. The letter Seonghwa had given to San had been burned, just like Seonghwa had instructed. If he had died, San would've opened the letter and seen Jongho's name. Then he would've sent it to him. But Seonghwa had survived, and the letter had been burned to ashes. 

Jongho tried so hard to keep his mind positive. He tried so, so hard, but it was so difficult. Negative thoughts seemed to devour him; swallow him as whole, especially in the darkest hours of the night. 

To be honest, Jongho wasn't sure if he could ever sleep well. If he could have one night without nightmares. It was probably impossible, based on the way the pictures and scenes had burned on his retinas. All he could do was hope. Hope that one day, he was happy. One day he could sleep.

The sleep still didn't come. It seemed to run away from Jongho with big, long steps, and he knew he was behind it. If only he didn't fear falling asleep.

That night reminded him of the last two weeks of the war. It was almost the similar situation, but back then, Jongho had laid awake just and purely because of Seonghwa.

He had stared at the bottom of the top bunk and thought, begged and even prayed that Seonghwa was alive and breathing, wherever he was. Jongho had hated the fact that Seonghwa was such a trusted soldier that was higher up so he could be sent to an other frontline.

He had laid awake nights. So many nights and hours, just hoping that somewhere in a forest far away from Jongho, Seonghwa's beautiful body hadn't been left to rot like everyone else's.

27th of July, 1953

Jongho spat the mud out of his mouth. He crawled on the rough ground, feeling like puking his guts out. He was absolutely exhausted. Black spots danced in front of his vision, and Jongho wasn't sure if he would be able to stand up anymore. But at the mark of his commander, he pushed himself up, ran three big steps and threw himself down again. He landed on top of his arms, and hit the bone on his arm to a root of some tree. Tears rose to Jongho's eyes and he almost let out a cry of pain. It would bruise so badly. 

The gun in his hands kicked back as he shot, not once, not twice but thrice. The South answered to fire with fire — and Jongho ducked his head down. He didn't want to die today.

"FORWARD!" Came the yell again, and Jongho cursed.

He pushed himself up with his abused hands that shook and felt like giving up. Jongho's legs were heavy and he merely took two normal steps before falling down, this time not by some elegant dive but just because of his body giving up.

For a second Jongho danced on the edge of fainting. His lungs hurt. They were on fire, as if someone burned the tender insides with a lighter. It was hard to breathe. Jongho had to wheeze to get some air to him. He could've killed for water. Well, he basically did.

Everyone crawled, and so did Jongho. His trousers got stuck somewhere, and Jongho growled, pushing his body forward, but even he pulled hard, his leg was stuck.

Jongho yanked his leg off — and only when pain flashed in his mind, he realised that maybe, just maybe he should've checked what he had been stuck on. A piece of barbed wire had teared through his trousers and now through his skin, too. 

Jongho didn't dwell on it. He continued crawling before pushing his body towards its limit by standing up and running. He hid behind a tree and shot before throwing himself down to the floor.

He began tasting blood in his mouth. Jongho was actually surprised it only came now. The attack had been going on for god knows how many hours, and it was getting to him.

After pushing himself up again, the blood's taste in his mouth changed to the taste of bile and vomit.

Jongho's legs and whole body shook. After running again, he fell down uncontrollably, and stayed there.

Jongho stared to the left side, his lungs burning and chest rising fast. He couldn't see properly anymore. Everything was black in his eyes, and Jongho was actually about to faint. No matter how near he heard the whistles of bullets and the yells from dying soldiers, he couldn't get up. His body wouldn't answer.

"Get up!" Someone yelled to him while running past Jongho.

Easier said than done. 

It felt like the ground was swallowing him, and not letting go. 

But when a bullet hit the ground next to him, it woke him up again. Jongho didn't know where he got that energy from, but he pushed himself up with teeth gritted together, ran forward and slightly to the right before diving to the ground. He closed his right eye and aimed — pulled the trigger and let the gun kick him. Again. Again. Again.

At that moment, Jongho felt like a robot. He had turned off his brains and pushed, abused and tortured his body to move, to work. Because he would die if he didn't. He would die. 

After five long months in the war, he actually had a reason to keep going for. Something waited for him, but only if he survived. Only, if he squeezed the last bits of strength out of him. Only, if he stayed alive.

There was no other ways to get out of this situation than die or win. Jongho pressed his eyes closed and squeezed the locket in his right hand for a second, heart beating too fast for it to be normal. Then he stuffed the locket back inside his uniform and got up again.

Even if Jongho felt like he couldn't breathe — even if his chest hurt, he still fought. Sweat ran down his face and he knew his whole body was completely drenched, the ruthless sun of July making sure he sweated like a teenager. As he threw himself down, he let out a grunt of pain and aimed, shooting.

When Jongho was about to push himself up, the fire from South's side stopped completrly. It stopped so abruptly that Jongho didn't stop shooting, because he was genuinely confused of what was going to come.

"A CEASEFIRE HAS BEEN DECLARED!" Came a heavily accented yell from wherever the commander of South's soldiers was.

That's when Jongho's commander lifted his fist high up in the air.

"EVERYONE STOP SHOOTING!" 

At that exact moment, a wheezing messenger ran from behind them. The South's messenger had been faster, but not a lot. Jongho watched as his commander read the letter, hoping that it was true.

"It's true!" He yelled, and that's when Jongho let himself relax completely.

He closed his eyes and slumped against the ground, chest heaving up and down and lungs sucking in the air they were able to get. He was absolutely spent. Now the energy from earlier disappeared again, and Jongho wanted to lay there forever.

Relief filled his mind. It was over. The war was over, at least for a moment, he actually made it. Jongho was alive, and he wouldn't need to fight anymore. At least not for awhile. 

Seonghwa was probably okay too. He wanted to believe in that for now.

A few tears of happiness ran down Jongho's cheek, and he smiled, the wide smile reaching his cheeks and stretching them. He pulled the locket out again, and opened it to look at Seonghwa.

"We'll find each other soon, right?" He whispered, and brought the picture to his lips to give it a small peck.

The war was over.

5th of November, 1953

Jongho walked down the street, coming from some barber shop he had gotten his hair cut at. The sun was shining prettily through a small hole in the clouds, and Jongho inhaled the air deeply to his lungs.

He felt quite tired, but it was nothing new. He had gotten used to it after staying awake for hours almost every night ever since the war ended.

Jongho smelled something delicious in the air — but he didn't have his wallet with him, so he could only smell it. Pity, he was a bit hungry. He would need to go back to the motel to get his wallet soon.

He turned to left. It was a part of Jinju Jongho hadn't explored yet. It was closer to the port, and he had avoided that area just in case there were some soldiers that could still remember him. But he was ready to go there now, there was no way he could be remembered. And if he just kept his mouth shut, no one could know he was a Northie. 

The road felt nice under his shoes. It went slightly downwards. The air was cold, cold enough to make Jongho's cheeks redden. He cursed himself for not putting on the heavier jacket he had bought just last week.

He would have a long day, after all. Jongho had promised to help Wooyoung with cleaning the guest rooms in the evening, but other than that, he was going to spend the rest of the day walking around Jinju and looking for his lost lover. Jongho had learned to appreciate it, he actually found peace while doing exactly that, because it meant he was one step closer.

He saw a boat in the horizon, and continued to the left away from the water. He could hear some kind of beautiful music coming from somewhere, and he wanted to know what it was. He wanted to hear it.

The cold wind that hit his body was enough to make him shiver. The winter was truly there, and it was only the matter of a day when the snow would come and take over the ground, covering everything with a pretty white blanket. 

The street he had turned to was much smaller than the main streets right in the centrum of Jinju, beside the motel. But it was pretty; the houses were orange, made with bricks, and it contrasted the harbour well. Jongho liked this side of the city a lot.

He got closer to the source of the good scent. It came much closer now, and Jongho followed it. The food smelled absolutely delicious.

It was coming from a restaurant. Now Jongho really cursed himself for not bringing his wallet. He couldn't just walk into a restaurant and not buy anything — it would be very disrespectful.

He patted his jacket down. If he was lucky, he might have something in there. 

And he had. He found some crumbled bills, and with a quick maths equation he did in his head, he discovered that he had about one million won. It would be more enough to buy something. But he really wanted to save some money...

Jongho was about to turn around and go back, but something just made him sigh and open the door to the restaurant. He could at least ask for Seonghwa.

He pulled the locket out from the safety of his clothes, and opened it, greeting the assumed owner of the restaurant with a small bow and a quiet hello. The tall man with puppy-like eyes and a kind smile greeted him back.

Jongho was just about to show him the picture of Seonghwa, when he looked up.

He stared at a very familiar back. In fact, it looked so familiar, that for a second, Jongho forgot how to breathe. He really did.

Everything around him but his heart slowed down. His heart beat picked up, the important organ racing in his chest. He began to tremble.

He recognized that mop of black hair. He recognized the back and the neck, heck, he recognized the whole body.

Jongho's fingers squeezed the locket in his hand even harder. His palms began to feel clammy and sweaty, and Jongho sucked in a loud breath, eyes moistening up.

He shook so hard that he actually felt like he was going to fall any moment.

"Seonghwa?" He whispered out, words nowhere near strong enough to be called spoken words. He was afraid his mind was just playing games.

In that silent and empty restaurant, Jongho's words were just loud enough, and the man turned around to look at whoever had called him.

More tears sprung into Jongho's eyes as his gaze met with the man's.

Seonghwa.

It was Seonghwa.

Those familiar dark eyes stared back at him. The same, twinkling eyes Jongho had fallen in love with back then. Seonghwa was actually in front of him. He was actually there.

"Jongho?" Seonghwa asked just as quietly as Jongho had done, his low voice sending shivers down Jongho's spine.

The first sob escaped Jongho's mouth at the same time when the first tears slid down his cheeks, and Jongho sprinted. He went from 0 to 100 in such a short time, even if he had been sure that his legs would not carry him.

His legs carried him just fine, and Jongho ran to Seonghwa, who was staring at him with wide eyes.

Jongho slammed into Seonghwa very powerfully, but it wasn't enough to make them fall. Seonghwa catched him like he was a feather, and Jongho sobbed.

Seonghwa's safe arms wrapped around Jongho's body, squeezing him so close that normally Jongho would've started panicking. But now, Jongho's arms were wrapped around Seonghwa's neck just as tight, bringing him as close as possible.

Jongho sobbed into Seonghwa's shoulder, his cries coming out uncontrollably and loudly. But luckily Seonghwa's shirt was pressed against Jongho's mouth, muffling them up.

Jongho could do nothing but cry. He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, big fat tears running down his face. Seonghwa was there with him. He was hugging Seonghwa. 

Having those familiar arms around him felt so good. It felt so freeing, so empowering, so safe. This was where he was supposed to be. Seonghwa was who was supposed to be with.

Seonghwa's strong arms were wrapped around his waist, his face pressed into Jongho's shoulder as well, and Jongho knew he was crying too. He heard Seonghwa's cries.

Jongho didn't even try quieting down. He didn't have to pretend. He didn't need to do anything. All he needed and wanted to do was to be in Seonghwa's arms.

"Seonghwa..." Jongho rasped out, yet another sob fighting itself out of Jongho's throat and making his body rock with it.

"Jongho, my baby..." Seonghwa answered to him, and it was enough to make Jongho cry more.

He had suffered so much and for so long. He had felt so bad, so sad, generally just shit, that now that he didn't have to be scared anymore, it all came out.

Jongho wasn't a crier, but when it came to Seonghwa, Jongho was ready to expose his inner feelings. Why? Because he felt so god damn good with Seonghwa.

Seonghwa's arms caressed Jongho's back, and it felt like he was ready to let go of the hug, but Jongho wasn't.

Seonghwa tried to separate himself, but Jongho just clung onto Seonghwa better, the hold around Seonghwa's neck tightening. His eyes still leaked tears.

"Baby, I want to see you." Seonghwa said, to which Jongho refused to even answer. He shook his head and brought Seonghwa's body even closer.

"We can hug again after that, okay? You found me. I just want to see you."

Jongho let his arms loosen, but he still wanted to hold Seonghwa, so he left his hand around his neck.

Jongho pulled back, and now stared straight into Seonghwa's sparkling eyes.

He hadn't changed at all. He stared at Jongho just like he had done in the war. With adoration and proudness, like Jongho was his everything.

"There you are. Hi, baby." Seonghwa said, voice so tender and soft that it made Jongho melt even more.

"Seonghwa..." Jongho just blurted out, hiding his face in the crook of Seonghwa's neck to feel him again. Not being close enough to him killed Jongho.

He felt Seonghwa's body tremble a bit with soft, deep chuckles, but he sounded like he was crying too. Hands ran down Jongho's back to hold him tighter, and Jongho felt Seonghwa lay his head on Jongho's shoulder too. Seonghwa's hands became even tighter and he pulled Jongho as close as it was possible.

Small puffs of air tickled the sensitive skin on Jongho's neck.

"I missed you so much." Seonghwa whispered, making Jongho's eyes well up with tears again.

"I missed you so much too." Jongho answered, fighting to keep the hiccups in. 

Jongho let his arms loosen up again, and Seonghwa used that chance to pull a pit apart so they could look at each other.

"You're alive, breathing, and in my arms." Seonghwa whispered, eyes crinkled up in a soft smile, lips turning upwards and irises twinkling beautifully.

Jongho just nodded many times, eyes wet with tears, but god he couldn't get enough of Seonghwa. 

"The picture didn't do you any justice. The picture is absolutely gorgeous — but you look ethereal in real life. Without an uniform." Seonghwa continued, bringing his hands to rest on Jongho's cheeks and to wipe away the few drops of tears that were clinging onto Jongho's lashes like their life depended on it.

"I can't believe I can look at you without being scared of getting caught. I stared at the picture so much — I heard your voice... Seonghwa, I can't believe you're real!" Jongho blurted out, a sob breaking free from his mouth again as he hid his face in Seonghwa's chest.

"Baby. Jongho. Don't cry, I'm right here. You don't have to be scared anymore. The war is over. We're together. And I'm not leaving you." 

Seonghwa's arm supported Jongho's head gently against his chest, and he ran his hand through Jongho's hair. Jongho tried to hold in the tears, but when he began feeling small kisses being placed on top of his head, he just couldn't. 

"Baby, Haribo, don't cry anymore. It makes my heart ache so bad." Seonghwa muttered against Jongho's scalp.

"I just feel so relieved," Jongho answered, letting his tears wetten Seonghwa's shirt.

"Did you have a hard time after the war?"

Jongho just nodded.

"Oh no... it's all good now. I'm with you." Seomghwa answered.

"And I'm with you." Jongho said back, now feeling calm enough to pull himself back to look at Seonghwa again.

Jongho lifted his right hand up to trace down Seonghwa's face, feeling the soft skin under his fingers again. Seonghwa was real. He was actually real. This wasn't one of Jongho's dreams, the human right in front of him was real.

Seonghwa lowered his head a bit so he got closer to Jongho — leaving about ten centimeters between their faces.

"I've been looking for you for so long." Jongho whispered.

"I've been looking for you, too. Fortunately I got caught in Seoul and didn't get to leave, because you were here." Seonghwa smiled.   
"You must've felt lonely. In another country." He continued.

Jongho felt himself drown in the thick, thick accent. Somehow Seonghwa's accent sounded better than anyone else's. Maybe Jongho was just biased, but nothing could sound more like a... home. Nothing could sound more like home than Seonghwa's low voice and the thick Gyeongsang dialect.

"I'm not lonely anymore," Jongho answered, to which Seonghwa didn't comment anything.

Seonghwa answered with connecting his and Jongho's lips, making Jongho's heart jump, squeeze and ache.

Jongho closed his eyes at the familiar, sweet feeling that came with Seonghwa's soft lips on his. He relaxed completely, letting his stiff shoulders fall down to their rightful place as he died on the inside.

Jongho closed his hands behind Seonghwa's neck and moved his lips slowly against Seonghwa's, bringing back many, many memories. It almost made him cry again.

Seonghwa kissed him softly and lovingly. The kiss was nothing hurried — just painfully full of emotions and longing, that was now over.

Jongho pecked Seonghwa's lips before he dived in again, listening to the soft sounds that came from their kiss. 

Seonghwa's plump lips didn't kiss Jongho on his lips anymore. They traveled a bit to the side to appreciate the corner of Jongho's mouth, then up to boop Jongho's nose that was slightly red from crying, and lastly, to his forehead.

It made Jongho feel so loved.

"We fought, Jongho, and now, we have everything we promised to have. We have each other." Seonghwa said, smiling.

Jongho smiled back. He let the smile take over not only his lips to curl them up slightly — but to open his mouth, show his teeth and gummies, eyes crinkling up. He let himself smile. 

"I missed hearing your voice." Jongho whispered, pressing his cheek against Seonghwa's and closing his eyes again.

"Missed the accent. No matter how many people I hear talking like you, no one's sounds like yours." He continued.

"The feeling is mutual, sweetheart." Seonghwa chuckled, pecking Jongho's forehead again.

"Welcome to South Korea. Welcome to Jinju. And most importantly, welcome to our shared future." 

Jongho let out a small laugh.  
"Stop. I'm going to get caught." 

"As if I'd let them take you away," Seonghwa grinned, all teeth and happiness. 

Jongho smiled, distancing himself from Seonghwa, but making sure to search for his hand, that gladly held Jongho's. 

"Thank you for the food, Yunho. And for letting me find my boyfriend." Seonghwa said to the tall man Jongho had seen when entering the restaurant.

The man, Yunho, smiled before talking;  
"My pleasure. Congratulations, both of you. All Seonghwa has been talking about ever since he came back from the war has been you."

Jongho blushed, but enjoyed the warmth that bloomed in his chest.

"You need to tell me all, baby. How you got here, how the last weeks went... how are you, how's your cute little head holding on. Everything." Seonghwa announced, pressing a kiss on Jongho's knuckles before starting to walk towards the door out.

"You were probably here to eat, but tell you what, instead of giving Yunho money I'll cook to you myself." Seonghwa continued, making Jongho laugh as the answer.

"I'll tell you only if you promise to tell me everything too." Jongho answered, smiling, and pressing a kiss on Seonghwa's cheek, which made the older male gasp and give Jongho the softest smile ever.

"Deal." 

Seonghwa opened the door out and let Jongho go out first, being the gentleman he is.

"I can't get enough of staring at you." Seonghwa commented, gripping Jongho's hand tighter as they walked towards the way Jongho had come from. 

"I can't get enough of you. It feels so weird to be able to just... be like this. It's so different from the war."

Seonghwa hummed as the response, clearly thinking of something.  
"To be honest, I was kind of nervous about our possible future. I thought that maybe you wouldn't want to leave the North, and I myself didn't want to come there. But luckily you came here. I tried to get a train to the North so I could come get you here, but like I said earlier, I got caught, spent a few days in a cell in Seoul and then returned here." 

Jongho shivered, the cold wind going through his clothes.

"No, even in the war I knew I was on the wrong side. So after spending too much days being depressed and not getting myself up, I finally catched the last train and came here. Honestly, I'm not sure how long has it been, but I've spent my time in a motel." Jongho answered.

Seonghwa glanced at him.  
"Did you check if I was alive at all? Or did you just look for me?"

Jongho laughed at that.  
"It's a funny and long story. I met San, and he choked me because he recognized my accent and found me searching for you suspicious." 

"San? You met San and he choked you?" Seonghwa asked, laughing and pulling Jongho closer by letting go of his hand and holding him by his waist.

"Yeah. But after yelling something about loving you he realised I was your gummy bear — how did you even make up that nickname — and he let me go. Then he told me you were alive, and that he had burned your letter because of that."

Seonghwa smiled.  
"Who doesn't think you're a gummy bear? The candies we shared back in the war were Haribo gummy bears, remember?"

Jongho laughed and glanced at Seonghwa again, feeling his heart beat faster in his chest.

God, he was so in love that it was almost comical.

"I can't believe San got to choke you before I did," Seonghwa suddenly stated, a teasing smirk on his face.

Jongho snorted, blushed and hit Seonghwa's chest.  
"Stop it."

Seonghwa just laughed at Jongho's reaction and stopped right there, planting his another hand on Jongho's waist too, pulling him close.

And like the biggest cliche ever, it started snowing.

Big and beautiful snowflakes snowed down from the sky, sticking to Jongho's clothes and hair. He smiled at Seonghwa, who was staring at him with a gentle smile, holding him tightly by his waist. It felt so good.

"You're so beautiful, Jongho." Seonghwa whispered, eyes twinkling again.

"Thank you." Jongho whispered back, watching how Seonghwa's beautiful dark hair got coated with snowflakes.

Jongho approached Seonghwa's lips, and kissed them once, backing a bit away, to make sure Seonghwa wanted it. They were in public, after all.

Seonghwa didn't seem to mind it, because he just kissed Jongho again.

Honestly, it was the most romantic thing that had ever happened to Jongho. 

Seonghwa held him so gently by his waist and kissed him so softly yet passionately, making Jongho's heart beat fast. Jongho closed his eyes and locked his hands around Seonghwa's neck, holding him gently.

Seonghwa left small, short kisses on his lips so Jongho didn't even have time to answer to them. Seonghwa just closed his lips around Jongho's for a second, the kiss letting out a soft sound at that before Songhwa did it again.

Jongho blushed and let Seonghwa do what he wanted, trying to answer every now and then. 

Seonghwa suddenly continued a bit down and left a kiss on Jongho's jawline, then right under his chin before pecking Jongho's sensitive neck. After that he looked up — accidentally giving Jongho the biggest, sparkliest puppy eyes he had ever seen, asking if it was okay.

Jongho exhaled shakily, and nodded, smiling.

Seonghwa smiled, before he left soft kisses on Jongho's neck — not enough to leave bruises or long-lasting marks, but enough to make Jongho shiver and the skin redden ever so slightly for a second.

Seonghwa didn't do anything lewd though, because he came back to Jongho's lips quickly to give them a peck, only to retract right after.

"Not fair. I wanted to give you kisses too," Jongho whined, something he had never done, and pouted.

Seonghwa chuckled.  
"I would love to receive your kisses, but you're cold. And hungry. Even tired. What kind if boyfriend would I be if I didn't take care of you enough?"

"Kisses..." Jongho muttered, only to be squeezed against Seonghwa chest in a bone-crushing hug.

"You're so adorable. I promise you can give me all the kisses you want when we're home and you have eaten. I promise."

With that promise Jongho finally agreed to continue the journey to Seonghwa's home, smiling and holding Seonghwa's hand, while the snow landed on them.

—

The smell of good food accompanied Jongho as he walked around Seonghwa's apartment. It was a small one, but not too small. Perfect for one person, tight fit for roommates, but for a couple? It would the cutest, coziest little home ever.

Jongho was probably going way too far with his thinking, but this was what he came to find. His lover. And he wanted nothing more than to be with him forever.

He saw pictures of Seonghwa with his family. He seemed to be the only child, judging from how it was always him, his mom and his dad in the pictures. Jongho wondered where his parents were.

The apartment was furnitured with warm brown furniture, white walls and decorations. The apartment smelled just like Seonghwa, which Jongho of course loved.

He let his fingers run on the clean surface of the dining table, staring out of the window to the streets that were currently getting busier.

"Do you like my apartment?" Seonghwa asked from somewhere behind him.

Jongho turned around, smiled softly at him, and watched how Seonghwa put down two bowls full of familiar-looking noodles to the table.

"Is that..?" Jongho asked, trailing off.

"Yeah. Cold noodles, naengmyeon, though it's South Korean style. Just to make you feel a bit more home."

Jongho smiled more, walking to Seonghwa and wrapping his hands around Seonghwa's middle.

"You didn't need to. My home is with you." He said, looking at Seonghwa with hearts in his eyes.

"I wanted to. I know this is a big change for you — leaving your homeland to come here and stay here with me. It takes a lot to do that. I just want to make you feel as home as possible." Seonghwa answered softly, his warm eyes tracing down Jongho's facial features.

"You don't need to worry about that. I don't have anything to mourn in that god forsaken land, I'm here to stay with you."

Seonghwa leaned forward to press a kiss on Jongho's forehead.  
"We should discuss about this seriously after we have eaten." 

Jongho didn't know what there was to discuss about — but Seonghwa saying that made him a bit nervous. Even if he knew Seonghwa would never want Jongho to leave.

"We should." Is what he answered, voice slightly laced with insecurity, which he tried so hard to cover. 

Seonghwa glanced at him, then pulled him to sit next to himself and grabbed his chopsticks.  
"Don't think too much, love. You know what I mean by discussing." He said, amused.

Jongho blushed.  
"Sorry. It's a bad habit."

"I get it. Open your mouth, you are hungry."

Jongho opened his mouth, letting Seonghwa feed him a couple mouthfuls like he was a child again. It made him forget everything — for a moment, it was just Seonghwa and Jongho. Just them.

It was fine for a moment. He ate big mouthfuls, laughing with Seonghwa and enjoying the taste of the food. 

But then the cold noodles began to taste too familiar. Familiar enough to bring up traumas. Familiar enough for something in his brains to snap again.

Jongho hated it. He absolutely despised it. Why did his mind have to ruin everything? A perfect evening, perfect day... ruined just like that. 

When his breathing began to feel harder, his mouth was still full of the noodles. Jongho began to panick. He tried not to show it. Because Seonghwa had tried so hard to make the food to make Jongho feel home, but there he was, tangled with his own mind.

The noodles began to taste like sand and ash, with a hint of metal and gun powder. Like someone had fired a cannon next to him. Jongho tried to swallow desperately, getting air was starting to be too hard.

So it was like this, huh. Anything that reminded him of what he had seen, done and been through, anything that reminded him of his own home, was enough to kill him on the inside.

He managed to swallow the noodles so he didn't choke on them, and god how much he wished Seonghwa would realize and help him.

When he wheezed for air, that empty but tight feeling in his chest getting too heavy to carry without squirming or having to move, Seonghwa's eyes snapped up.

Jongho's own eyes were teary, and he turned to look at Seonghwa, hand pressing against his own chest ans squeezing the material of his knitted wool sweater tightly to fist.

He wasn't alone anymore, he could get through this. With Seonghwa. 

At any other time or moment few days back Jongho would've fought anyone that tried to touch him in this situation. But now, being pulled to sit on Seonghwa's lap, was the best thing ever.

"Hey. Don't get lost there. We are in Jinju, you are with me, with your Seonghwa." Seonghwa said, firmly but softly.

Did Seonghwa have attacks like these too?

"Look at me." 

When Jongho found it hard to actually obey because of the unbearable feeling crossing out his brains from working, Seonghwa's long fingers gently grabbed Jongho's chin and turned it so Jongho was looking at him.

"I'm here. Tell me, baby, what do you see? Anything." Seonghwa said, a small smile on his face.

Seonghwa didn't panick. He smiled. He wasn't sad or hurt.

That made Jongho calm down too. If Seonghwa was okay and he knew the situation was okay, so was Jongho.

"I see a pretty smile," Jongho said, his eyes sticking on Seonghwa's lips. He began to get air in his lungs again.

"Really? What else?"

"I see very pretty eyes too. They twinkle at me. They could reflect the galaxies if we were outside." Jongho continued, feeling how the rock left his heart, piece by piece.

"Wow Jongho, if you don't stop, I might think you're flirting with me," Seonghwa teased, seeing how Jongho came back from the edge.

"You're so pretty, Seonghwa. I've never seen anyone like you." Jongho mumbled, his hand looking for Seonghwa's, which he did find.

"Talk about yourself, pretty boy." Seonghwa answered and pressed a kiss on Jongho's jawline, making him shiver a bit.

Jongho smiled. The feeling had gone away, and he was back in the cozy apartment with Seonghwa.

"I guess I'm not only one with things like these." He said, looking at Seonghwa for confirmation.

Seonghwa's smile turned into something unhappier and sadder, but also stronger.

"You're not. Just try to remember that war is war. I know it's hard, but when you're in war, you can't think about anything else but surviving. And you did, so did I. So there's nothing to be afraid of anymore."

Jongho nodded.  
"Thank you. Really."

"My pleasure, love. Do you want candies? I hope your stomach got full enough. Dessert is included in the price, by the way." Seonghwa stated, making Jongho giggle and stand up so he could help with the dishes.

"Are you kidding? All I've done in Jinju has been eating. Everyone seems to spoil me with food."

"Can you blame them, gummy bear?" Seonghwa snorted, placing the bowls in the sink.

"I don't know, you tell me?" Jongho answered, helping by putting the jar of kimchi away.

"Who wouldn't want to feed you?" Seonghwa asked, his back to Jongho.

Jongho laughed, slapping Seonghwa's buttcheek as the answer.

"That is not included in the price. This cake is expensive." Seonghwa called out, turning to look at Jongho, who was now pretty much cry-laughing.

"I don't want to eat that cake!" He answered, laughing.

Seonghwa grinned widely, grabbing Jongho's waist to push him against the cupboard and bringing his lips on Jongho's.

"I'll eat your cake, then." He whispered, kissing Jongho slowly and tenderly.

"You're signing yourself up for cavity, I'm way too sweet for you," Jongho teased back while kissing.

Seonghwa chuckled and sucked Jongho's upper lip between his before leaning back.

"Even if you're too sweet, I doubt you'd say no to a candy." Seonghwa said, pulling a candy in a pretty purple paper from his pocket.

Jongho laughed, but opened his mouth and brought his tongue out like a dog.

"Cherry for you, my love, and lemon for me." Seonghwa sang, placing the sweet on Jongho's tongue and eating his own.

The strong cherry flavor exploded in Jongho's mouth, making him salivate a bit more.

"Lemon for my love," Jongho repeated, watching how Seonghwa's face brightened and eyes shone even prettier.

"I'm actually so in love that it hurts." Seonghwa breathed out, letting his head fall and rest on Jongho's shoulder. 

Jongho smiled and ran his fingers through Seonghwa's hair just like he had done to Jongho.

"I know."

Seonghwa's hands grabbed Jongho's, and he lifted his head up.  
"It's getting pretty late, love. Do you want to lay down?" He asked.

"I would love to." Jongho answered, smiling softly. 

Maybe when they would try to sleep, Jongho could actually fall asleep without rolling in the bed for hours. Maybe he wouldn't see nightmares. 

His brains knew Seonghwa was there. He felt so much calmer with the older male.

"Would you like to change some clothes? You can of course borrow mine, boyfriend." Seonghwa asked, smirking teasingly as he opened the drawer.

"Yeah. I have some clothes at the motel, the rest of my belongings are there too." He answered, watching how Seonghwa dug into the drawer to find something for him to wear.

Jongho thanked Seonghwa and pulled his own shirt over his head to pull on the soft silk pajama button-up. Jongho loved it. It smelled like Seonghwa, and it was just slightly big on him. 

"Matching bottoms for you and me," Seonghwa continued, showing Jongho the two pairs of red and white striped pajama bottoms, and laughed.

"Don't look so scandalized!"

Jongho just gave Seonghwa a wild face as he pushed down the trousers of his and enjoyed as the silky material hugged his legs.

Jongho had quite strong thighs — but so did Seonghwa. The pants fit him well, he wouldn't need to pull them up all the time.

"This is so domestic. You look adorable in my clothes." Seonghwa said as the jumped down on the bed that creaked. 

Seonghwa laid on his back and held his hands open for Jongho, seemingly looking for cuddles. 

Jongho didn't want to say no. He crawled on the bed until he could comfortably lay on top of Seonghwa, legs on the both sides of Seonghwa's body, and rest his right cheek on Seonghwa's shoulder. He started evening out his breathing, purposely teasing Seonghwa by blowing air on his neck.

"I see you, I see you." Seonghwa answered with a firm but playful tone in his voice, his fingers tickling Jongho's sides for a few seconds to get the one on top laughing, until the said hands rested comfortably on Jongho's back. He held Jongho very tightly but comfortably.

"So... I was wondering... you are to stay here, right?" Seonghwa asked.

Jongho didn't hesitate speaking.  
"Yes. I'm not going to go back to North, not now, not ever. I want to start a new life here."

"I'm very glad to hear that. I've been stressing about that so much. You know, you could move here, or we could move somewhere else." Seonghwa continued, his hand now caressing Jongho's back.

"I've had a plan in my head for a while now, and I'm glad I can finally present it. How about living here until Seoul is alive again? Then we could move there."

"Sounds good. I've always wanted to move there. Such a pity that it's in pieces now."

"I know. Maybe we can wait a bit?" Jongho said, pressing a kiss on Seonghwa's neck.

"We can totally wait a bit. You'll have time to make my mom like you. But knowing her, it won't be too hard."

Jongho laughed.  
"Oh yeah?"

"Oh, yeah." 

Jongho pecked Seonghwa's neck again.  
"I love you so much."

"Oh honey, I love you too." Seonghwa answered fondly. 

It was quiet for a while. The silence didn't last for too long, but just enough for Jongho's brains to bring up actually happy memories from the war. It was something that had never happened before.

"Remember when we hugged when the bomb exploded in the forest?" Jongho asked, and felt Seonghwa's body trembled with a chuckle.

"That is something I can never forget. We could've died, you know?" Seonghwa joked.

"I'm actually surprised we didn't. I mean, there were so many way too close moments, yet here we are." Jongho said, reaching his hand up to rest on Seonghwa's cheek. He started caressing the soft but at the same time rough skin under his fingers. Jongho looked up to see Seonghwa looking at him.

"So, is it confirmed now? You're staying with me?" Seonghwa asked.

"Silly... I already said yes. I'm not going anywhere." Jongho answered, pulling himself up so he sat on top of Seonghwa's lower abdomen, legs still holding him a bit up so the older male didn't crush.

Seonghwa smiled, his smile blinding. Two rows of white teeth showed, and they were enough to make Jongho show his own, gummy smile too.

Jongho leaned down and kissed Seonghwa. He tasted like lemon. Sweet, sweet lemon candy with a hint of sourness.

Their lips melted together — sending Jongho's mind in circles. He would never get enough of kissing Seonghwa like this.

It was like he craved for touch. It had truly been too long since Jongho had been touched. He wanted to be close, he wanted to touch and be touched. He needed it.

The emotions the two of them had were so powerful, so trong, that it was impossible to stay away. They were like two magnets. Their feelings pulled them together.

Seonghwa's tongue ran on Jongho's lower lip, sucking the plump lip between his own after that. Jongho reveled in the feeling of kissing, being kissed and held.

Jongho breathed in through his nose before opening his mouth so Seonghwa could push his tongue in. The warm, slick tongue entered his mouth, making Jongho's skin stick up on chicken skin. Shivers ran down his spine, the air in the room changing from very innocent one to a very tensed one. It didn't feel heavy or hasty — just very, very full of feelings.

They both wanted it. It was as if letting their bodies connect would seal the deal. Would make them whole, would make them, them.

Jongho's skin tingled under Seonghwa's slender fingers. Wherever they touched, Jongho's skin would catch flames.

Seonghwa's soft lips connected with Jongho's jawline. The tongue played with the bone striking under the skin, tracing the line up to the joint that connected Jongho's jaw. The air in the room was a bit chilly so the skin felt slightly cold, even if there was a raging fire inside Jongho.

The lips teased Jongho's earlobe — the skin bending under the most powerful muscle in a humanbody. The tongue wasn't the only one touching Jongho's ear. Teeth sank into the skin, leaving a pleasurable sting of pain and a mark of teeth.

Jongho could feel himself melting. He could feel every single cell in himself screaming. He felt so loved — so desired, adored. But he also felt desire and adoration towards another person. The body under him was his lover's body, a body of a person Jongho loved the most. 

"Seonghwa... I love you." He breathed out, voice longing. 

Seonghwa answered with sucking a gentle mark on Jongho's neck, his hot breath crazing the skin and making Jongho shiver again.

Jongho's hands grabbed Seonghwa's shirt desperately, baring his neck to receive yet another small nip on his skin. 

Jongho's nails sank into Seonghwa's skin even through the silky shirt, leaving half-moon marks behind. 

"Jongho... can I make love with you?" Seonghwa whispered to Jongho's ear, his voice soft and deep.

"Please. Please do." Jongho answered, his voice coming out as thin and breathy. 

Seonghwa pulled Jongho a bit upper, his shins resting against the soft cotton sheets, but otherwise sitting softly on top of Seonghwa. Seonghwa's fingers played with the elastic band of Jongho's pajama bottoms. Jongho heard Seonghwa's breathing, it was a bit faster than usually, heavier than what normal was.

The pajama bottom was slid down, leaving Jongho's thighs and butt naked and on display.

Seonghwa's left hand grabbed the soft flesh of Jongho's thighs, feeling it for a second before looking Jongho right to his eyes. Jongho stared back, hands resting against the sheets right above Seonghwa's shoulders and holding his upper body up.

Seonghwa's right hand's fingers, now slick with spit, traced the rim of muscles, eyes looking at Jongho's for a permission. Jongho gave it, nodding and inhaling when the first finger began sinking in, digit by digit.

Seonghwa's other hand held him by his thigh, and his eyes were on Jongho, who slowly breathed in and out. The uncomfortable feeling that Jongho had felt once in his life before this settled inside him. 

The thought of Seonghwa inside him pushing away the soft insides of Jongho's with his cock made Jongho's face burn again. His hole sucked in the finger easily, practically asking for more.

"Are you okay, love?" Seonghwa asked whe the second finger was being pushed inside. The stretch burned a bit but Jongho took it like a champ.

"Yes. Please Seonghwa, I need you." Jongho answered, voice laced with something very sweet, like honey. 

"You're doing so well."

Jongho let out a whimper, the two fingers inside him stretching him out and making space for the cock that would be inside him soon. 

He needed Seonghwa, and Seonghwa needed him. 

Jongho let his head drop down, his neck giving up holding it. Seonghwa's other hand ran through Jongho's hair, giving him the fondest caress to make sure Jongho felt loved.

And oh, he did. He had never felt this loved, this good. Complete.

Jongho let out a moan this time when Seonghwa's fingers touched a very sensitive spot inside him, his back arching a bit from the surprising surge of emotions. 

"That's right. Just a little bit more baby, just a bit." Seonghwa continued, seeing how Jongho's cock was angry red and hard, standing against his stomach. It glistened with precum, begging to be touched and relieved of the pleasurable pain that now shot up his nerves.

The third finger stretched Jongho pleasurably, anticipation burning in his veins. 

"I think you're about ready." Seonghwa's soft voice said.

"Roll over for me, honey." He continued, and Jongho moved stiffly, his hole aching a bit as he moved. It had been a long time.

Jongho settled down on the soft bedsheets, swallowing nervously but feeling very excited. Seonghwa stood up and slowly, almost teasingly stripped off his clothes, piece by piece. His muscular thighs got Jongho's attention, making him swallow again, now to keep himself sane.

Seonghwa got on the bed again and crawled to Jongho, lifting his left leg up and positioning himself well. Before Seonghwa did anything else, he kissed Jongho's inner thigh, making him sigh with pleasure.

"Are you ready?"

Seonghwa's voice was incredibly soft. There was not even a slight sharp edge in it — not even a hint of darkness. All Jongho could hear was love, love and love.

"Yes." Jongho answered, relaxing against the sheets.

He had nothing to be afraid of. He had Seonghwa with him.

When Jongho felt a bit larger thing than three fingers beginning to enter him, he inhaled deeply, and reached for something to squeeze. The soft cotton sheets ended up being his victim, and he squeezed them tightly in his fist.

Jongho's breathing got a bit fast, because he was only inhaling partly to have something to do and to balance out the uncomfortable feeling. His chest rose faster too.

"You're doing so good, baby. So good." Seonghwa praised, smiling gently while pushing the rest of his length slowly in.

It felt like it was all too much. Too much sensations and feelings mixed with emotions. Jongho's head span, his breathing got even faster and it felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest.

He enjoyed, and loved, that moment. It was like the cherry on top of everything, but Jongho felt too emotional. He was about to explode with love.

"Calm down, love. Everything's good."

Once again, Seonghwa's voice was enough to pull him back. Jongho's eyes - that he had closed without even realizing it - shot open, and he smiled.

"I know."

That's when Seonghwa began moving. He moved slowly, moving Jongho's insides out of the way and stretching him open carefully, making sure it wouldn't hurt Jongho. And it didn't. 

Jongho sighed again, getting used to the very slow moving, but loving every single second of it. Now they were complete, now their bodies had connected completely. It really was the cherry on top of everything. 

Seonghwa's hand ran through Jongho's hair, tracing down from his cheek to all the way down, where he gave Jongho's cock a bit of attention. Just enough to make Jongho moan softly and wither a little in the sheets.

"You feel so good, baby."

"Seonghwa," Jongho gasped as an answer when yet another powerful but slow, slow thrust came.

Seonghwa wasn't hurrying. He pulled out and pushed in deeply but slowly, enjoying the tight squeeze of Jongho's walls. Jongho could feel his body rocking each time when the cock got pushed in, reorganizing Jongho's insides.

Jongho moaned, now much more relaxed. He could hear Seonghwa's quiet puffs of air and small groans there and there, his own high-pitched gasps and whimpers harmonising with them. The bed creaked once, twice, thrice, before the squeaking stopped.

Seonghwa sped up a little, the rhythm now a bit faster. First it knocked the wind out of Jongho, coming in so suddenly, but god, the feeling.

Jongho moaned, feeling Seonghwa's hands grab his waist gently to hold him. His skin tingled again, a bead of sweat rolling down his face. The moan he let out sounded lewd, Seonghwa's cock reaching places that gave Jongho too much pleasure.

"Fuck..." He cursed, filter long gone now. All he could feel was pleasure.

That pleasure clouded his brains that were already clouded with something thick. Looking up at Seonghwa's also sweaty face did nothing good for his brains, because the twinkle in Seonghwa's eyes was again on Jongho.

His eyes shone and glimmered like thousands stars on the sky. His eyes were soft and full of fondness. The soft smile that took over Seonghwa's lips was gentle as well, stretching his red and swollen lips to a wide smile.

It was enough to bring Jongho to tears.

Even with the constant moans escaping Jongho's mouth, even with the dull ache in his cock, Jongho still teared up at the sight of his lover. He teared up just by seeing the person he had been dreaming of for months. He had looked for Seonghwa for weeks, walking around the city to find him, the only things helping him being the slightly crumbled picture and a name.

Now there he was, gently making love with Jongho.

"Love..." Seonghwa whispered, changing his position so he was holding himself up by his arms. 

Seonghwa leaned in to thrust deeper but to be closer to Jongho. Jongho moaned loudly, hands finding Seonghwa's biceps and squeezing them hard.

"I love you so much." Seonghwa whispered straight to Jongho's ear, low groans and growls accompanying the words. 

Jongho shivered even if the room felt like it had heated up at least a degree by now. The room smelled musky too, the smell of sex filling up the clean air.

"I love you too, god, Seonghwa, I..." Jongho said back, back arching when Seonghwa picked up his pace even more, his cock brushing Jongho's prostate few times while pushing in.

"You're so good to me. So good. Fuck..." Seonghwa growled, his voice getting a slight edge. 

"Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Seonghwa..." Jongho repeated, voice high-pitched and sounding a bit nasal.

The bed creaked with the slow but hammering pace Seonghwa did, his cock sliding in and out rather easily now compared to how Jongho's hole had resisted in the beginning. Each powerful thrust — that still weren't that fast — made Jongho let out sounds. Every time he whimpered or moaned, or mewled, voicing out the constant pleasure in him.

"Change, change..." Jongho muttered, and fortunately Seonghwa understood. He pulled out so he could lie down on the bed, Jongho coming on top of him.

Jongho wrapped his fingers around Seonghwa's cock and gave it a few strokes, watching how Seonghwa's eyes rolled back and closed, ecstasy filling his mind too. He kissed the tip twice, feeling the sturdy cock in his fingers one more time before he guided it back to his hole, sinking himself down.

Jongho couldn't stay quiet during that either. He let out a sigh so lewd, that it surprised even himself. The feeling of being filled by Seonghwa's cock again made him feel like he was high. 

Seonghwa's breathing staggered, his abs flexing so Seonghwa's upper body curled up a bit. His hands came to rest on Jongho's waist, squeezing him a bit tighter now that before. If Jongho was lucky, the spots on his waist could bloom a couple of pretty, pretty bruises. 

Jongho pulled his ass up again, leaning towards Seonghwa more before he sank down, biting his lower lip. The pace was slow again — but it didn't matter, because god he could feel it all.

He could feel every single part of Seonghwa's cock — the big tip that dragged against his walls just the right way, the veins that oozed with thick blood, and even the testicles that touched Jongho's bottom every time he sat down again. He could feel it all.

Sweat glistened on both of their skin. Jongho couldn't keep up with any kind of pace anymore, he just pushed himself up and down, chasing a few kisses on Seonghwa's chest. Seonghwa's grip on Jongho's waist tightened, and when Jongho pulled himself up again, Seonghwa's lips connected with his.

That slowed the movement down for a second. The kiss continued the constant pleasure though, not giving Jongho mercy at all. 

Jongho pulled away, now continuing the riding. His hole felt sore and cock painfully hard — but still, the pleasure mixed with the slight pain, making everything even better. He picked up his pace a bit, moaning out sweetly. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Jongho whispered. He could feel Seonghwa's cock pulsate inside him, ready to explode any moment.

"Hwa, Seonghwa, lord, you feel so good..." Jongho moaned out, hands coming to rest on Seonghwa's chest. His whole body trembled, he was exhausted, but he was chasing that orgasm they had both been playing with. 

Seonghwa's cock entered Jongho's tight heat easily — letting out wet, lewd sounds in the room. Jongho choked out a cry of pleasure, his throat dry and raspy. 

He was going to explode any moment.

"Baby, Jongho, fuck... you're so beautiful," Seonghwa moaned through his gritted-together teeth. His hair was glued to his forehead with sweat, Jongho's probably too. 

Seonghwa threw his head as back as it was possible, biting his lip to prevent letting out a very loud, feral sound. Jongho's eyes licked up his body, feeling even more aroused just by looking at his lover like this.

He was beginning to run out of energy and strength. Jongho's thighs burned, the pleasurable pain Jongho enjoyed having while exercising now being almost too much. But fortunately his body had an answer.

"Ah, ah, ah-" Jongho started, wanting to let out words, but failing at it.

"God, I'm coming Seonghwa, I'm coming," He continued, words a bit slurred.

Jongho's abdomen felt hot and his cock pulsated, wanting so bad to just release everything out. It wouldn't take long anymore.

Jongho moaned closed his eyes, speeding up even if his thighs were screaming at him to stop. 

"Cum for me. Cum for me, love, and I'll cum for you." Seonghwa answered, voice raw and deep. 

Tears formed in Jongho's eyes. His cock hurt so bad — it pulsated, letting Jongho know just how hard his heart beat. It was painful, but with his hazy mind he couldn't recognize pain and pleasure from each other.

But then Jongho's eyesight flashed white, and he felt his cock spurt out warm cum on both his and Seonghwa's stomachs. Jongho continued riding Seonghwa, chasing the last drops of the elixir of life.

Seonghwa began panting harder too, his wheezes, groans and moans becoming feral. He lifted his hips up so his cock entered Jongho harder, making them both whimper. The needy sound Seonghwa let out was enough to really make Jongho shiver.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Seonghwa moaned, and finally cummed.

Hot, sticky cum pumped inside Jongho, filling his sore, used hole up. He used last crumbs of energy to keep himself still, waiting for the cumming to stop while sitting with the cock balls-deep inside him.

Both he and Seonghwa panted for air, bodies rocking with the heaving, and a layer of glistening sweat covering their skin.

When Jongho felt like it was safe to fall, he let his body relax and flop on top of Seonghwa's, their warm bodies melting together.

"Oh my god..." Seonghwa whispered to Jongho's ear, voice very quiet and small, but still there.

Hands wrapped themselves around Jongho's body, keeping him close, even with the now softening cock still inside him. 

Jongho felt so, so safe. And so, so loved.

"I love you. I've said this thousands of times today, but I really do, Seonghwa." Jongho muttered, his hands coming to hold Seonghwa too.

"And I love you. I'm never going to stop saying it. Never."

Jongho placed a kiss on Seonghwa's jaw and closed his eyes for a moment, smiling.  
"You tasted like lemon."

"And you tasted like cherry." Seonghwa answered, making Jongho smile like an idiot.

"I know."

Seonghwa placed a kiss on Jongho's cheek, and ran a hand through Jongho's hair.  
"I'll be right back, I'll get a wet wipe."

"Nooooo!" Jongho protested, whining, and hugging Seonghwa closer befofe he could move even an inch.

"No?" Seonghwa repeated, chuckling at Jongho's adorable reaction.

"No."

"Okay, okay. Let's sleep as a pair or dirty gays, then." Seonghwa laughed.

"Exactly. Gay." Jongho said back, smiling.

"I'm sure sleep will come to you soon, love. You worked hard." Seonghwa said, and kissed Jongho's cheek again.

"You worked hard too." Jongho answered, words a bit slurred.

"Yeah yeah, but my baby worked harder. No objections."

But Jongho was already asleep, so he failed to answer. He slept peacefully, not even one nightmare entering his dreams.

Seonghwa smiled fondly, and wrapped his arms around Jongho better, knowing that he would wake up with a numb limb or two tomorrow. But he would also wake up with the love of his life tomorrow. The adorable little baby with a honey-like voice and a bright, gummy smile would be the best human to wake up next to.

—

17th of August, 1975

Jongho eyed the unfamiliar male with a bit narrowed eyes, wondering just why was Seonghwa so excited about meeting him. He squeezed Seonghwa's hand harder.

"Hi, Yeosang! Long time no see, right?" Seonghwa said, letting go of Jongho's hand to hug the male, who apparently was called Yeosang.

Jongho resisted the urge to pout. Seonghwa had let go of his hand — of his hand! — to hug another man. Of course Jongho felt upset. He wasn't jealous, he just... well, he was jealous.

"Yeah! How have you been? Glad to see you're alive," Yeosang answered, hugging Seonghwa back.

"I can say the same about you."

Jongho bit his lower lip and watched the two of them talk, he himself falling deeper into the rabbit hole of jealousness. He had absolutely no reason to be jealous, but god, he was feeling clingy and he wanted to hold Seonghwa's hand. Now.

Seonghwa and Yeosang conversed, the new male sporting a black leather jacket and a blonde mullet. He was really pretty, which didn't help at all. Just who was this man?

"So who's this man right here? What haven't you told me?" Yeosang suddenly asked, shaking Jongho out of his thoughts.

Now the two pairs of eyes were on Jongho, who knew he should've smiled and introduced himself — but all he did was stay quiet and observe Yeosang.

"Oh right, he's Jongho, my — baby, show what you have in your ring finger — my fiance." Seonghwa said, walking back to Jongho and encouraging Jongho to show his finger. Then he grabbed Jongho's hand and lifted it up.

"Yes. My fiance, Jongho. He's Kang Yeosang — he was one of the soldiers at Frontline 3. Nowadays he's a commander, just like me."

Jongho should've smiled, but again, he couldn't.  
Something in this situation twisted his stomach. He pouted.

"Baby, don't be grumpy. Say hi." Seonghwa encouraged, sticking his fingers to the corners of Jongho's mouth and pulling them up to make Jongho smile.

Jongho burst out in laughter, eyes crinkling up and his gummy smile showing. He knew Yeosang wasn't anything more than a friend to Seonghwa, so he stepped forward to shake hands with Yeosang.

But Yeosang just cooed and pulled Jongho into a hug.

"Where'd you find this babe from?"

"Oh uh, we met, in... the war." Jongho answered. No one could know if he had been a Southie or a Northie.

But Yeosang froze, pulled his head back to look at Jongho to his eyes.

For a second Jongho thought he had been caught — caught in the hands of a literal commander. But then Yeosang hugged him again.

"And a Northie! I thought I had seen a cute one back then."

Seonghwa snorted, smiling.  
"You're just saying that because Jongho is cute."

"And what about it?"

Jongho smiled and patted Yeosang's shoulder when the probably older man let go.

"Nice to meet you. And welcome to Seoul! The reconstructed, fancy Seoul."

Jongho laced his fingers with Seonghwa's, and looked up, the busy streets of Seoul opening up right in front of them.

"San should be here soon, too. He's bringing Yunho with him. He also asked me to tell you guys that the rest are coming a bit late, but are coming anyways."

Jongho nodded, smiling.

Seonghwa, Jongho, San and Yunho, the owner of the restaurant Jongho and Seonghwa had met at, and Hongjoong, Mingi and Wooyoung, went to eat, all together. They had formed a good friendgroup.

Seonghwa had proposed last night, when they had been walking towards their new apartment in Seoul. It had happened on the beautiful bridge, just when the night was darkest, and the street lamps and the lights of the city were the brightest.

The six of Jongho's and Seonghwa's friends walked in front them, laughing, but Jongho stopped. Seonghwa stopped too, and turned to look at Jongho.

"Hmm? Baby?" He asked, but Jongho shushed him with a kiss.

"Nothing. Just love you." Jongho muttered against Seonghwa's lips.

"I love you too. Now, and even longer than until the time when the humans have destroyed this god forsaken world." Seonghwa muttered back, wrapping his hands around Jongho's waist.

Jongho closed his eyes, and smiled, feeling great.

He no longer feared, he no longer grieved. He didn't have difficulties falling asleep, he didn't have any nightmares, and god, he didn't have any attacks anymore. He had healed, the deep wounds had really healed. He was safe with Seonghwa.

Seonghwa held his promise. They loved each other until death came to separate them. But even that didn't stop their love — two beautiful tombstones stand right next to each other's at the graveyard in Jinju, growing flowers.

If you could take a look inside, you would see Seonghwa and Jongho holding hands.

You would also see the lockets resting around their necks, making sure that no matter where they went in afterlife, they could always find each other, just by looking at the picture.

Because love never dies, not even when the body does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s over. Omg.
> 
> First, happy saturday!
> 
> So, this is it. This was how their story began, developed and ended. This chapter finally showed the anticipated meeting.
> 
> Time flies so fast. It’s already the end of this, my 8th jonghwa. I feel like I just started publishing yesterday? Well, here we are.
> 
> This was... relatively hard to write. If I’m capable of writing a jonghwa in 6 days (it’s my record hahaha, with A good lil detective), this took two months. I mean, I have school, so it’s a bit difficult to write sometimes. But I have managed well so far.
> 
> The next jonghwa is going to be published on 20th of February, four weeks from this moment. It’s a college au with a fratboy seonghwa haha. We’ll see then!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this story. It means the world to me.
> 
> See you in four weeks!
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/cloudyjjongie?s=21) and [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/Cloudyjongho)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Hello! How was it?
> 
> I’m back again. These 4 weeks felt so long, oh god. But here it is! My newest baby. I’m so excited, this story is an exciting story that will keep you on your toes.👀
> 
> A new chapter comes every saturday.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter one. I have never written like this, using different dates and taking jumps back in time, but it just fit this story so well. 
> 
> Until next saturday!
> 
> [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/ramenofwonho) and [my twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/ramenofwonho).


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